The children's book of Christmas stories

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THE CHILDREN'S BOOK OF
CHRISTMAS STORIES

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2007 with funding from

IVIicrosoft Corporation

http://www.archive.org/details/childrensbookofcOOdick

CHRISTMAS JOLLITY

{John Leech's '"Mr. Fezziwig s Ball,''' from Dickens' '^Christraas Carol.")

THE CHILDREN'S BOOK

OF

CHRISTMAS STORIES

EDITED BY

ASA DON DICKINSON

AND

ADA M. SKINNER

Frontispiece

NEW YORK

DOUBLEDAY, DORAN & COMPANY, INC.
1939

HE NEW YORK

rilBLIC LIBRARY

ABTOH, LENOX ANB
TILBEN y >l)NOATION«.

: .*:;•*. .'y^t.::..;

COPYRIGHT, I913, BY DOUPLEDAY, PAGE
& COMPANY. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES AT THE
COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

The Publishers desire to acknowledge the kindness of
the J. B. Lippincott Co., Houghton Mifflin Co., D. C.
Heath & Co., The Bobbs-Merrill Co., Milton Bradley
Co., Henry Altemus Co., Lothrop, Lee & Shepherd Co.,
Little, Brown & Co., Moffat, Yard & Co., American
Book Co., Perry, Mason Co., Duffield & Co., Chicago
Kindergarten College, and others, who have granted
them permission to reproduce herein selections from
works bearing their copyright.

PREFACE

Many librarians have felt the need and expressed
the desire for a select collection of children's Christmas
stories in one volume. This book claims to be just
that and nothing more.

Each of the stories has already won the approval of
thousands of children, and each is fraught with the true
Christmas spirit.

It is hoped that the collection will prove equally
acceptable to parents, teachers, and librarians.

Asa Don Dickinson.

vu

CONTENTS

{Note. — The stories marked with a star (*) will be most
enjoyed by younger children; those marked with a dagger (f)
are better suited to older children.)

PAGE

Christmas at Fezziwig's Warehouse. By Charles Dickens 3
*The Fir-Tree. By Hans Christian Andersen ... 6
The Christmas Masquerade. By Mary E. Wilkins Free-
man 19

*The Shepherds and the Angels. Adapted from the

Bible 34

fThe Telltale Tile. By Olive Thome Miller ... 36

*Little Girl's Christmas. By Winnifred E. Lincoln . . 48

t A Christmas Matinee. By M. A. L.Lane . . . 57

*Toinette and the Elves. By Susan Coolidge ... 68
The Voyage of the Wee Red Cap. By Ruth Sawyer Du-

rand 86

*A Story of the Christ-Child (a German Legend for Christ-
mas Eve). As told by Elizabeth Harrison ... 96
*Jimmy Scarecrow's Christmas, hy Mary E. Wilkins

Freeman 103

Why the Chimes Rang. By Raymond McAlden . . 113

♦The Birds' Christmas (founded on fact). By F. E. Mann 120

fThe Little Sister's Vacation. By Winifred M. Kirkland 126
♦Little Wolff's Wooden Shoes. By Franqois Coppee, adapted

and translated by Alma J. Foster i39

fChristmas in the Alley. By Olive Thome Miller . . 146
*A Christmas Star. By Katherine Pyle . . . .158

fThe Queerest Christmas. By Grace Margaret Gallaher 165
Old Father Christmas. By J. H. Ewing . . .179

ix

X CONTENTS

A Christmas Carol. By Charles Dickens . . . .193
How Christmas Came to the Santa Maria Flats. By Elia

W. Peattie 196

The Legend of Babouscka. From the Russian Folk Tale 208
*Christmas in the Barn. By F. Arnstein . . . .211

The Philanthropist's Christmas. By James Weber Linn 216

*The First Christmas-Tree. By Lucy Wheelock . . 230
The First New England Christmas. By G. L. Stone and

M. G. Fickett 232

The Cratchits' Christmas Dinner. By Charles Dickens . 242
Christmas in Seventeen Seventy-Six. By Anne Eollings-

worth Wharton 253

*Christmas Under the Snow. By Olive Thome Miller 261

Mr. Bluff's Experience of Holidays. By Oliver Bell Bunce 273

fMaster Sandy's Snapdragon. By Elbridge S. Brooks . 284

A Christmas Fairy. By John Strange Winter . . . 297

The Greatest of These. By Joseph Mills Hanson . . 303
*Little Gretchen and the Wooden Shoe. By Elizabeth

Harrison 316

fChristmas on Big Rattle. By Theodore Goodridge Roberts 329

THE CHILDREN'S BOOK OF
CHRISTMAS STORIES

CHRISTMAS AT FEZZIWIG'S WAREHOUSE

CHARLES DICKENS

YO HO ! my boys, " said Fezziwig. " No more work
to-night! Christmas Eve, Dick! Christmas,
Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up!" cried old
Fezziwig with a sharp clap of his hands, "before a man
can say Jack Robinson. . . . "

"Hilh-ho!" cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from
the high desk with wonderful agihty. "Clear away,
my lads, and let's have lots of room here! Hilli-ho,
Dick! Cheer-up, Ebenezer!"

Clear away ! There was nothing they wouldn't have
cleared away, or couldn't have cleared away with old
Fezziwig looking on. It was done in a minute. Every
movable was packed off, as if it were dismissed from
public life forevermore; the floor was swept and watered,
the lamps were trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire;
and the warehouse was as snug, and warm, and dry,
and bright a ballroom as you would desire to see on a
winter's night.

In came a fiddler with a music book, and went up to
the lofty desk and made an orchestra of it and tuned
like fifty stomach-aches. In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one

3

4 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

vast substantial smile. In came the three Misses
Fezziwig, beaming and lovable. In came the six fol-
lowers whose hearts they broke. In came all the young
men and women employed in the business. In came
the housemaid with her cousin the baker. In came the
cook with her brother's particular friend the milkman.
In came the boy from over the way, who was suspected
of not having board enough from his master, trying to
hide himself behind the girl from next door but one who
was proved to have had her ears pulled by her mistress;
in they all came, anyhow and every how. Away they
all went, twenty couple at once; hands half round and
back again the other way; down the middle and up
again; round and round in various stages of affectionate
grouping, old top couple always turning up in the wrong
place; new top couple starting off again, as soon as they
got there; all top couples at last, and not a bottom one
to help them.

When this result was brought about the fiddler struck
up " Sir Roger de Coverley. " Then old Fezziwig stood
out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Top couple, too,
with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them; three or
four and twenty pairs of partners; people who were not
to be trifled with; people who would dance and had no
notion of walking.

But if they had been thrice as many — oh, four
times as many — old Fezziwig would have been a
match for them, and so would Mrs. Fezziwig. As to
her, she was worthy to be his partner in every sense of

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES $

the term. If that's not high praise, tell me higher and
I'll use it. A positive light appeared to issue from
Fezziwig's calves. They shone in every part of the
dance like moons. You couldn't have predicted at
any given time what would become of them next. And
when old Fezziwig and Mrs. Fezziwig had gone all
through the dance, advance and retire; both hands to
your partner, bow and courtesy, corkscrew, thread the
needle, and back again to your place; Fezziwig "cut'*
— cut so deftly that he appeared to wink with his legs,
and came upon his feet again with a stagger.

When the clock struck eleven the domestic ball broke
up. Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig took their stations, one on
either side of the door, and shaking hands with every
person individually, as he or she went out, wished him
or her a Merry Christmas!

n

THE FIR-TREE*

HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

OUT in the woods stood a nice little Fir-tree. The
place he had was a very good one; the sun shone
on him; as to fresh air, there was enough of that, and
round him grew many large-sized comrades, pines as
well as firs. But the Httle Fir wanted so very much to
be a grown-up tree.

He did not think of the warm sun and of the fresh air;
he did not care for the little cottage children that ran
about and prattled when they were in the woods looking
for wild strawberries. The children often came with
a whole pitcher full of berries, or a long row of them
threaded on a straw, and sat down near the young tree
and said, "Oh, how pretty he is! what a nice little fir!"
But this was what the Tree could not bear to hear.

At the end of a year he had shot up a good deal, and
after another year he was another long bit taller; for
with fir-trees one can always tell by the shoots how
many years old they are.

"Oh, were I but such a high tree as the others are!"
sighed he. "Then I should be able to spread out my

*Reprinted by permission of the Houghton-Mifflin Company,

6

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 7

branches, and with the tops to look into the wide
world! Then would the birds build nests among my
branches; and when there was a breeze, I could bend
with as much stateliness as the others!"

Neither the sunbeams, nor the birds, nor the red
clouds, which morning and evening sailed above them,
gave the little Tree any pleasure.

In winter, when the snow lay glittering on the ground,
a hare would often come leaping along, and jump right
over the little Tree. Oh, that made him so angry!
But two winters were past, and in the third the tree
was so large that the hare was obliged to go round it.
*'To grow and grow, to get older and be tall," thought
the Tree — "that, after all, is the most delightful
thing in the world! "

In autumn the wood-cutters always came and felled
some of the largest trees. This happened every year;
and the young Fir-tree, that had now grown to a very
comely size, trembled at the sight; for the magnificent
great trees fell to the earth with noise and cracking,
the branches were lopped off, and the trees looked long
and bare; they were hardly to be recognized; and then
they were laid in carts, and the horses dragged them out
of the woods.

Where did they go to? What became of them?

In spring, when the Swallows and the Storks came,
the Tree asked them, "Don't you know where they
have been taken? Have you not met them anywhere?"

The Swallows did not know anything about it; but

8 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

the Stork looked musing, nodded his head, and said:
"Yes, I think I know; I met many ships as I was flying
hither from Egypt; on the ships were magnificent
masts, and I venture to assert that it was they that
smelt so of fir. I may congratulate you, for they lifted
themselves on high most majestically!"

"Oh, were I but old enough to fly across the sea!
But how does the sea look in reality? What is it like? "
"That would take a long time to explain," said the
Stork, and with these words off he went.

"Rejoice in thy growth!" said the Sunbeams,
"rejoice in thy vigorous growth, and in the fresh life
that moveth within thee!"

And the Wind kissed the Tree, and the Dew wept
tears over him; but the Fir understood it not.

When Christmas came, quite young trees were cut
down; trees which often were not even as large or of
the same age as this Fir-tree, who could never rest, but
always wanted to be off. These young trees, and they
were always the finest looking, retained their branches;
they were laid on carts, and the horses drew them out
of the woods.

"Where are they going to?" asked the Fir. "They
are not taller than I; there was one indeed that was
considerably shorter; and why do they retain all their
branches? Whither are they taken? "

" We know ! we know ! " chirped the Sparrows. " We
have peeped in at the windows in the town below!
We know whither they are taken! The greatest

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 9

splendour and the greatest magnificence one can im-
agine await them. We peeped through the windows,
and saw them planted in the middle of the warm room,
and ornamented with the most splendid things — with
gilded apples, with gingerbread, with toys, and many
hundred lights!"

"And then?" asked the Fir-tree, trembhng in every
bough. "And then? What happens then? "

"We did not see anything more: it was incomparably
beautiful. "

"I would fain know if I am destined for so glorious
a career," cried the Tree, rejoicing. "That is still
better than to cross the sea! What a longing do I
suffer! Were Christmas but come! I am now tall,
and my branches spread like the others that were
carried off last year! Oh, were I but already on the
cartl Were I in the warm room with all the splendour
and magnificence! Yes; then something better, some-
thing still grander, will surely follow, or wherefore
should they thus ornament me? Something better,
something still grander, must follow — but what? Oh,
how I long, how I suffer! I do not know myself what
is the matter with me! "

"Rejoice in our presence!" said the Air and the Sun-
light; "rejoice in thy own fresh youth!"

But the Tree did not rejoice at all; he grew and grew,
and was green both winter and summer. People that
saw him said, "What a fine tree!" and toward Christ-
mas he was one of the first that was cut down. The

lo CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

axe struck deep into the very pith; the tree fell to the
earth with a sigh: he felt a pang — it vv^as like a swoon;
he could not think of happiness, for he was sorrowful
at being separated from his home, from the place where
he had sprung up. He knew well that he should never
see his dear old comrades, the little bushes and flowers
around him, any more; perhaps not even the birds!
The departure was not at all agreeable.

The Tree only came to himself when he was unloaded
in a courtyard with the other trees, and heard a man
say, "That one is splendid! we don't want the others."
Then two servants came in rich livery and carried the
Fir-tree into a large and splendid drawing-room.
Portraits were hanging on the walls, and near the white
porcelain stove stood two large Chinese vases with
lions on the covers. There, too, were large easy chairs,
silken sofas, large tables full of picture-books, and full
of toys worth hundreds and hundreds of crowns —
at least the children said so. And the Fir-tree was
stuck upright in a cask that was filled with sand: but
no one could see that it was a cask, for green cloth was
hung all around it, and it stood on a large gayly coloured
carpet. Oh, how the Tree quivered! What was to
happen? The servants, as well as the young ladies,
decorated it. On one branch there hung little nets cut
out of coloured paper, and each net was filled with
sugar-plums; and among the other boughs gilded apples
and walnuts were suspended, looking as though they
had grown there, and little blue and white tapers were

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES ii

placed among the leaves. Dolls that looked for all the
world like men — the Tree had never beheld such
before — were seen among the foliage, and at the very
top a large star of gold tinsel was fixed. It was really
splendid — beyond description splendid.

'' This evening!" said they all; "how it will shine
this evening!"

"Oh," thought the Tree, "if the evening were but
come! If the tapers were but lighted! And then I
wonder what will happen! Perhaps the other trees
from the forest will come to look at me! Perhaps the
sparrows will beat against the window-panes! I won-
der if I shall take root here, and winter and summer
stand covered with ornaments! "

He knew very much about the matter! but he was
so impatient that for sheer longing he got a pain in his
back, and this with trees is the same thing as a headache
with us.

The candles were now lighted. What brightness!
What splendour ! The Tree trembled so in every bough
that one of the tapers set fire to the foliage. It blazed
up splendidly.

"Help! Help!" cried the young ladies, and they
quickly put out the fire.

Now the Tree did not even dare tremble. What a
state he was in! He was so uneasy lest he should lose
something of his splendour, that he was quite be-
wildered amidst the glare and brightness; when sud-
denly both folding-doors opened, and a troop of children

12 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

rushed in as if they would upset the Tree. The older
persons followed quietly; the little ones stood quite
still. But it was only for a moment; then they shouted
so that the whole place reechoed with their rejoicing;
they danced round the tree, and one present after the
other was pulled o£f.

" What are they about? " thought the Tree. " What
is to happen now?" And the lights burned down to
the very branches, and as they burned down they were
put out, one after the other, and then the children had
permission to plunder the tree. So they fell upon it
with such violence that all its branches cracked; if it
had not been fixed firmly in the cask, it would certainly
have tumbled down.

The children danced about with their beautiful play-
things: no one looked at the Tree except the old nurse,
who peeped between the branches; but it was only to
see if there was a fig or an apple left that had been
forgotten.

"A story! a story!" cried the children, drawing a
little fat man toward the tree. He seated himself
under it, and said: "Now we are in the shade, and the
Tree can listen, too. But I shall tell only one story.
Now which will you have : that about Ivedy-Avedy, or
about Klumpy-Dumpy who tumbled downstairs, and
yet after all came to the throne and married the
princess? "

"Ivedy-Avedy!" cried some; "Klumpy-Dumpy!"
cried the others. There was such a bawling and

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 13

screaming — the Fir-tree alone was silent, and he
thought to himself, "Am I not to bawl with the rest?
— am I to do nothing whatever? " for he was one of
the company, and had done what he had to do.

And the man told about Klumpy-Dumpy that
tumbled down, who notwithstanding came to the
throne, and at last married the princess. And the
children clapped their hands, and cried out, "Oh, go on!
Do go on ! " They wanted to hear about Ivedy-Avedy,
too, but the little man only told them about Klumpy-
Dumpy. The Fir-tree stood quite still and absorbed
in thought; the birds in the woods had never related the
like of this. "Klumpy-Dumpy fell downstairs, and
yet he married the princess! Yes! Yes! that's the
way of the world!" thought the Fir-tree, and beheved
it all, because the man who told the story was so good-
looking. "Well, well! who knows, perhaps I may fall
downstairs, too, and get a princess as wife!" And he
looked forward with joy to the morrow, when he hoped
to be decked out again with hghts, playthings, fruits,
and tinsel.

"I won't tremble to-morrow," thought the Fir-tree.
"I will enjoy to the full all my splendour. To-morrow
I shall hear again the story of Klumpy-Dumpy, and
perhaps that of Ivedy-Avedy, too." And the whole
night the Tree stood still and in deep thought.

In the morning the servant and the housemaid
came in.

" Now, then, the splendour will begin again, " thought

14 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

the Fir. But they dragged him out of the room, and
up the stairs into the loft; and here in a dark corner,
where no dayhght could enter, they left him. "What's
the meaning of this?" thought the Tree. "What am
I to do here? What shall I hear now, I wonder?"
And he leaned against the wall, lost in reverie. Time
enough had he, too, for his reflections; for days and
nights passed on, and nobody came up; and when at
last somebody did come, it was only to put some great
trunks in a corner out of the way. There stood the
Tree quite hidden; it seemed as if he had been entirely
forgotten.

"'Tis now winter out of doors!" thought the Tree.'
"The earth is hard and covered with snow; men cannot
plant me now, and therefore I have been put up here
imder shelter till the springtime comes ! How thought-
ful that is! How kind man is, after all! If it only
were not so dark here, and so terribly lonely! Not
even a hare. And out in the woods it was so pleasant,
when the snow was on the ground, and the hare leaped
by; yes — even when he jumped over me; but I did
not like it then. It is really terribly lonely here ! "

"Squeak! squeak!" said a little Mouse at the same
moment, peeping out of his hole. And then another
little one came. They sniffed about the Fir-tree, and
rustled among the branches.

"It is dreadfully cold," said the Mouse. "But for
that, it would be delightful here, old Fir, wouldn't
it?"

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 15

" I am by no means old, "said the Fir-tree. " There's
many a one considerably older than I am. "

"Where do you come from," asked the Mice; "and
what can you do?" They were so extremely curious.
''Tell us about the most beautiful spot on the earth.
Have you never been there? Were you never in the
larder, where cheeses he on the shelves, and hams hang
from above; where one dances about on tallow-candles;
that place where one enters lean, and comes out again
fat and portly?"

"I know no such place," said the Tree, "but I know
the woods, where the sun shines, and where the httle
birds sing. " And then he told all about his youth; and
the little Mice had never heard the like before; and
they listened and said:

" Well, to be sure ! How much you have seen ! How
happy you must have been!"

"I?" said the Fir-tree, thinking over what he had
himself related. "Yes, in reahty those were happy
times. " And then he told about Christmas Eve, when
he was decked out with cakes and candles.

"Oh," said the little Mice, "how fortunate you have
been, old Fir-tree !"

"I am by no means old," said he. "I came from
the woods this winter; I am in my prime, and am only
rather short for my age. "

"What delightful stories you know!" said the Mice:
and the next night they came with four other little
Mice, who were to hear what the tree recounted; and

i6 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

the more he related, the more plainly he remembered
all himself; and it appeared as if those times had really
been happy times. "But they may still come —
they may still come. Klumpy-Dumpy fell downstairs
and yet he got a princess," and he thought at the
moment of a nice Httle Birch-tree growing out in the
woods; to the Fir, that would be a real charming
princess.

"Who is IClumpy-Dumpy? " asked the Mice. 3o
then the Fir-tree told the whole fairy tale, for he could
remember every single word of it; and the little Mice
jumped for joy up to the very top of the Tree. Next
night two more Mice came, and on Sunday two Rats,
even; but they said the stories were not interesting,
which vexed the little Mice; and they, too, now began
to think them not so very amusing either.

"Do you know only one story?" asked the Rats.

"Only that one," answered the Tree. "I heard it
on my happiest evening; but I did not then know how
happy I was. "

"It is a very stupid story. Don't you know one
about bacon and tallow candles? Can't you tell any
larder stories?"

"No," said the Tree.

"Then good-bye," said the Rats; and they went
home.

At last the little Mice stayed away also; and the
Tree sighed: "After all, it was very pleasant when
the sleek httle Mice sat around me and listened to what

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 17

I told them. Now that too is over. But I will take
good care to enjoy myself when I am brought out
again. "

But when was that to be? Why, one morning there
came a quantity of people and set to work in the loft.
The trunks were moved, the Tree was pulled out and
thrown — rather hard, it is true — down on the floor,
but a man drew him toward the stairs, where the
daylight shone.

"Now a merry life will begin again," thought the
Tree. He felt the fresh air, the first sunbeam — and
now he was out in the courtyard. All passed so quickly,
there was so much going on around him, that the Tree
quite forgot to look to himself. The court adjoined a
garden, and all was in flower; the roses hung so fresh
and odorous over the balustrade, the lindens were in
blossom, the SwaUows flew by, and said, "Quirre-vit!
my husband is come!" but it was not the Fir-tree that
they meant.

"Now, then, I shall reaUy enjoy life," said he, exult-
ingly, and spread out his branches; but, alas! they were
all withered and yellow. It was in a corner that he
lay, among weeds and nettles. The golden star of
tinsel was stiU on the top of the Tree, and glittered in
the sunshine.

In the courtyard some of the merry children were
playing who had danced at Christmas round the Fir-
tree, and were so glad at the sight of him. One of the
youngest ran and tore off the golden star.

i8 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"Only look what is still on the ugly old Christmas
tree!" said he, trampling on the branches, so that they
all cracked beneath his feet.

And the Tree beheld all the beauty of the flowers, and
the freshness in the garden; he beheld himself, and
wished he had remained in his dark corner in the loft;
he thought of his first youth in the woods, of the merry
Christmas Eve, and of the little Mice who had listened
with so much pleasure to the story of Klumpy-Dumpy.

' ' 'Tis over — 'tis past! " said the poor Tree. " Had
I but rejoiced when I had reason to do so! But now
'tis past, 'tis past!"

And the gardener's boy chopped the Tree into small
pieces; there was a whole heap lying there. The wood
flamed up splendidly under the large brewing copper,
and it sighed so deeply! Each sigh was like a shot.

The boys played about in the court, and the youngest
wore the gold star on his breast which the Tree had had
on the happiest evening of his life. However, that was
over now — the Tree gone, the story at an end. All,
all was over; every tale must end at last.

m

THE CHRISTMAS MASQUERADE*

MARY E. WILKINS FREEMAN

ON Christmas Eve the Mayor's stately mansion
presented a beautiful appearance. There were
rows of different coloured wax candles burning in every
window, and beyond them one could see the chandeliers
of gold and crystal blazing with light. The fiddles
were squeaking merrily, and lovely little forms flew
past the windows in time to the music.

There were gorgeous carpets laid from the door to the
street, and carriages were constantly arriving and fresh
guests tripping over them. They were all children.
The Mayor was giving a Christmas Masquerade to-
night to all the children in the city, the poor as well
as the rich. The preparation for this ball had been
making an immense sensation for the last three months.
Placards had been up in the most conspicuous points in
the city, and all the daily newspapers had at least a
column devoted to it, headed with "THE MAYOR'S
CHRISTMAS MASQUERADE," in very large
letters.

The Mayor had promised to defray the expenses of

•From " The Pot of Gold ," copyright by Lothrop, Lee & Shepherd Co.

19

20 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

all the poor children whose parents were unable to do
so, and the bills for their costumes were directed to be
sent in to him.

Of course there was great excitement among the
regular costumers of the city, and they all resolved
to vie with one another in being the most popular, and
the best patronized on this gala occasion. But the
placards and the notices had not been out a week before
a new Costumer appeared who cast all the others intc
the shade directly. He set up his shop on the corner
of one of the principal streets, and hung up his beautiful
costumes in the windows. He was a little fellow, not
much bigger than a boy of ten. His cheeks were as
red as roses, and he had on a long curling wig as white
as snow. He wore a suit of crimson velvet knee-
breeches, and a little swallow-tailed coat with beautiful
golden buttons. Deep lace ruffles fell over his slender
white hands, and he wore elegant knee buckles of glit-
tering stones. He sat on a high stool behind his
counter and served his customers himself; he kept no
clerk.

It did not take the children long to discover what
beautiful things he had, and how superior he was to the
other costumers, and they begun to flock to his shop
immediately, from the Mayor's daughter to the poor
ragpicker's. The children were to select their own
costumes; the Mayor had stipulated that. It was to
be a children's ball in every sense of the word.

So they decided to be fairies and shepherdesses, and

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 21

princesses according to their own fancies; and this new
Costumer had charming costumes to suit them.

It was noticeable that, for the most part, the children
of the rich, who had always had everything they desired,
would choose the parts of goose-girls and peasants and
such like; and the poor children jumped eagerly at the
chance of being princesses or fairies for a few hours in
their miserable Hves.

When Christmas Eve came and the children flocked
into the Mayor's mansion, whether it was owing to the
Costumer 's art, or their own adaptation to the charac-
ters they had chosen, it was wonderful how hfelike their
-representations were. Those little fairies in their short
skirts of silken gauze, in which golden sparkles appeared
as they moved with their Httle funny gossamer wings,
like butterflies, looked like real fairies. It did not
seem possible, when they floated around to the music,
half supported on the tips of their dainty toes, half by
their filmy purple wings, their dehcate bodies swaying
in time, that they could be anything but fairies. It
seemed absurd to imagine that they were Johnny
MuUens, the washerwoman's son, and Polly Flinders,
the charwoman's little girl, and so on.

The Mayor's daughter, who had chosen the character
of a goose-girl, looked so like a true one that one could
hardly dream she ever was anything else. She was,
ordinarily, a slender, dainty little lady rather taU for
her age. She now looked very short and stubbed and
brown, just as if she had been accustomed to tend geese

22 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

in all sorts of weather. It was so with all the others —
the Red Riding-hoods, the princesses, the Bo-Peeps
and with every one of the characters who came to the
Mayor's ball; Red Riding-hood looked round, with big,
frightened eyes, all ready to spy the wolf, and carried
her little pat of butter and pot of honey gingerly in her
basket; Bo-Peep's eyes looked red with weeping for the
loss of her sheep; and the princesses swept about so
grandly in their splendid brocaded trains, and held
their crowned heads so high that people half-believed
them to be true princesses.

But there never was anything like the fun at the
Mayor's Christmas ball. The fiddlers fiddled and
fiddled, and the children danced and danced on the
beautiful waxed floors. The Mayor, with his family
and a few grand guests, sat on a dais covered with blue
velvet at one end of the dancing hall, and watched the
sport. They were all delighted. The Mayor's eldest
daughter sat in front and clapped her little soft white
hands. She was a tall, beautiful young maiden, and
wore a white dress, and a little cap woven of blue violets
on her yellow hair. Her name was Violetta.

The supper was served at midnight — and such a
supper! The mountains of pink and white ices, and
the cakes with sugar castles and flower gardens on the
tops of them, and the charming shapes of gold and
ruby-coloured jellies. There were wonderful bonbons
which even the Mayor's daughter did not have every
day; and all sorts of fruits, fresh and candied. They

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 23

had cowslip wine in green glasses, and elderberry wine
in red, and they drank each other's health. The
glasses held a thimbleful each; the IMayor's wife thought
that was all the wine they ought to have. Under each
child's plate there was a pretty present and every one
had a basket of bonbons and cake to carry home.

At four o'clock the fiddlers put up their fiddles and
the children went home; fairies and shepherdesses and
pages and princesses all jabbering gleefully about the
splendid time they had had.

But in a short time what consternation there was
throughout the city. When the proud and fond parents
attempted to unbutton their children's dresses, in order
to prepare them for bed, not a single costume would
come off. The buttons buttoned again as fast as they
were unbuttoned; even if they pulled out a pin, in it
would slip again in a twinkling; and when a string was
untied it tied itself up again into a bowknot. The
parents were dreadfully frightened. But the children
were so tired out they finally let them go to bed in
their fancy costumes and thought perhaps they would
come off better in the morning. So Red Riding-hood
went to bed in her little red cloak holding fast to her
basket full of dainties for her grandmother, and Bo-
Peep slept with her crook in her hand.

The children all went to bed readily enough, they
were so very tired, even though they had to go in this
strange array. All but the fairies — they danced and
pirouetted and would not be stilL

24 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

" We want to swing on the blades of grass, " they kept
saying, "and play hide and seek in the lily cups, and
take a nap between the leaves of the roses. "

The poor charwomen and coal-heavers, whose
children the fairies were for the most part, stared at
them in great distress. They did not know what to do
with these radiant, frisky little creatures into which
their Johnnys and their Pollys and Betseys were so
suddenly transformed. But the fairies went to bed
quietly enough when daylight came, and were soon
fast asleep.

There was no further trouble till twelve o'clock,
when all the children woke up. Then a great wave of
alarm spread over the city. Not one of the costumes
would come off then. The buttons buttoned as fast
as they were unbuttoned; the pins quilted themselves
in as fast as they were pulled out; and the strings flevr
round like lightning and twisted themselves into bow-
knots as fast as they were untied.

And that was not the worst of it; every one of the
children seemed to have become, in reality, the char-
acter which he or she had assumed.

The Mayor's daughter declared she was going to tend
her geese out in the pasture, and the shepherdesses
sprang out of their little beds of down, throwing aside
their silken quilts, and cried that they must go out and
watch their sheep. The princesses jumped up from their
straw pallets, and wanted to go to court; and all the
rest of them likewise. Poor little Red Riding-hood

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 25

sobbed and sobbed because she couldn't go and carry
her basket to her grandmother, and as she didn't have
any grandmother she couldn't go, of course, and her
parents were very much troubled. It was all so
mysterious and dreadful. The news spread very
rapidly over the city, and soon a great crowd gathered
around the new Costumer's shop for every one thought
he must be responsible for all this mischief.

The shop door was locked; but they soon battered it
down with stones. When they rushed in the Costumer
was not there; he had disappeared with all his wares.
Then they did not know what to do. But it was
evident that they must do something before long for
the state of affairs was growing worse and worse.

The Mayor's little daughter braced her back up
against the tapestried wall, and planted her two feet
in their thick shoes firmly. "I will go and tend my
geese," she kept crying. "I won't eat my breakfast.
I won't go out in the park. I won't go to school. I'm
going to tend my geese — I will, I will, I will !"

And the princesses trailed their rich trains over the
rough unpainted floors in their parents' poor little huts,
and held their crowned heads very high and demanded
to be taken to court. The princesses were mostly
geese-girls when they were their proper selves, and their
geese were suffering, and their poor parents did not
know what they were going to do and they wrung their
hands and wept as they gazed on their gorgeously
apparelled children.

26 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Finally the Mayor called a meeting of the Aldermen,
and they all assembled in the City Hall. Nearly every
one of them had a son or a daughter who was a chimney-
sweep, or a little watch-girl, or a shepherdess. They
appointed a chairman and they took a great many votes
and contrary votes but they did not agree on anything,
until every one proposed that they consult the Wise
Woman. Then they all held up their hands, and voted
to, unanimously.

So the whole board of Aldermen set out, walking by
twos, with the Mayor at their head, to consult the Wise
Woman. The Aldermen were all very fleshy, and
carried gold-headed canes which they swung very high
at every step. They held their heads well back, and
their chins stiff, and whenever they met common people
they sniffed gently. They were very imposing.

The Wise Woman lived in a little hut on the out-
skirts of the city. She kept a Black Cat, except for
her, she was all alone. She was very old, and had
brought up a great many children, and she was con-
sidered remarkably wise.

But when the Aldermen reached her hut and found
her seated by the fire, holding her Black Cat, a new
difficulty presented itself. She had always been quite
deaf and people had been obliged to scream as loud as
they could in order to make her hear; but lately she had
grown much deafer, and when the Aldermen attempted
to lay the case before her she could not hear a word,
in fact, she was so very deaf that she could not dis-

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 27

tinguish a tone below G-sharp. The Aldermen
screamed till they were quite red in the faces, but all
to no purpose: none of them could get up to G-sharp
of course.

So the Aldermen all went back, swinging their gold-
headed canes, and they had another meeting in the
City Hall. Then they decided to send the highest
Soprano Singer in the church choir to the Wise Woman;
she could sing up to G-sharp just as easy as not. So
the high Soprano Singer set out for the Wise Woman's
in the Mayor's coach, and the Aldermen marched
behind, swinging their gold-headed canes.

The High Soprano Singer put her head down close
to the Wise Woman's ear, and sung all about the
Christmas Masquerade and the dreadful dilemma
everybody was in, in G-sharp — she even went higher,
sometimes, and the Wise Woman heard every word.
She nodded three times, and every time she nodded she
looked wiser.

"Go home, and give 'em a spoonful of castor-oil, all
'round," she piped up; then she took a pinch of snuff,
and wouldn't say any more.

So the Aldermen went home, and every one took a
district and marched through it, with a servant carry-
ing an immense bowl and spoon, and every child had to
take a dose of castor-oil.

But it didn't do a bit of good. The children cried
and struggled when they were forced to take the castor-
oil; but, two minutes afterward, the chimney-sweeps

28 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

were crying for their brooms, and the princesses scream-
ing because they couldn't go to court, and the Mayor's
daughter, who had been given a double dose, cried
louder and more sturdily: "I want to go and tend my
geese. I will go and tend my geese. "

So the Aldermen took the high Soprano Singer, and
they consulted the Wise Woman again. She was
taking a nap this time, and the Singer had to sing up
to B-flat before she could wake her. Then she was
very cross and the Black Cat put up his back and spit
at the Aldermen.

"Give 'em a spanking all 'round," she snapped out,
"and if that don't work put 'em to bed without their
supper. "

Then the Aldermen marched back to try that; and
all the children in the city were spanked, and when that
didn't do any good they were put to bed without any
supper. But the next morning when they woke up
they were worse than ever.

The Mayor and Aldermen were very indignant, and
considered that they had been imposed upon and
insulted. So they set out for the Wise Woman again,
with the high Soprano Singer.

She sang in G-sharp how the Aldermen and the
Mayor considered her an impostor, and did not think
she was wise at all, and they wished her to take her
Black Cat and move beyond the limits of the city.
She sang it beautifully; it sounded like the very finest
Italian opera music.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 29

"Deary me," piped the Wise Woman, when she had
finished, "how very grand these gentlemen are."
Her Black Cat put up his back and spit.

"Five times one Black Cat are five Black Cats,"
said the Wise Woman. And directly there were five
Black Cats spitting and miauHng.

"Five times five Black Cats are twenty-five Black
Cats. " And then there were twenty-five of the angry
little beasts.

"Five times twenty-five Black Cats are one hundred
and twenty-five Black Cats, " added the Wise Woman
with a chuckle.

Then the Mayor and the Aldermen and the high
Soprano Singer fled precipitately out the door and back
to the city. One hundred and twenty-five Black Cats
had seemed to fill the Wise Woman's hut full, and when
they all spit and miauled together it was dreadful.
The visitors could not wait for her to multiply Black
Cats any longer.

As winter wore on and spring came, the condition of
things grew more intolerable. Physicians had been
consulted, who advised that the children should be
allowed to follow their own bents, for fear of injury
to their constitutions. So the rich Aldermen's daugh-
ters were actually out in the fields herding sheep, and
their sons sweeping chimneys or carrying newspapers;
and while the poor charwomen's and coal-heavers,
children spent their time like princesses and fairies.
Such a topsy-turvy state of society was shocking.

30 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

While the Mayor's little daughter was tending geese
out in the meadow like any common goose-girl, her
pretty elder sister, Violetta, felt very sad about it and
used often to cast about in her mind for some way of
relief.

When cherries were ripe in spring, Violetta thought
she would ask the Cherry-man about it. She thought
the Cherry-man quite wise. He was a very pretty
young fellow, and he brought cherries to sell in graceful
little straw baskets lined with moss. So she stood in
the kitchen door one morning and told him all about
the great trouble that had come upon the city. He
listened in great astonishment; he had never heard of
it before. He lived several miles out in the country.

" How did the Costumer look? "he asked respectfully;
he thought Violetta the most beautiful lady on earth.

Then Violetta described the Costumer, and told him
of the unavailing attempts that had been made to find
him. There were a great many detectives out, con-
stantly at work.

" I know where he is ! " said the Cherry-man. '* He's
up in one of my cherry-trees. He's been living there
ever since cherries were ripe, and he won't come down."

Then Violetta ran and told her father in great excite-
ment, and he at once called a meeting of the Aldermen,
and in a few hours half the city was on the road to the
Cherry-man's.

He had a beautiful orchard of cherry-trees all laden
with fruit. And, sure enough in one of the largest,

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 31

way up amongst the topmost branches, sat the Cos-
tumer in his red velvet and short clothes and his dia-
mond knee-buckles. He looked down between the
green boughs. "Good-morning, friends!" he shouted.

The Aldermen shook their gold-headed canes at him,
and the people danced round the tree in a rage. Then
they began to climb. But they soon found that to be
impossible. As fast as they touched a hand or foot
to a tree, back it flew with a jerk exactly as if the tree
pushed it. They tried a ladder, but the ladder fell back
the moment it touched the tree, and lay sprawling upon
the ground. Finally, they brought axes and thought
they could chop the tree down, Costumer and all; but
the wood resisted the axes as if it were iron, and only
dented them, receiving no impression itself.

Meanwhile, the Costumer sat up in the tree, eating
cherries and throwing the stones down. Finally he
stood up on a stout branch, and, looking down,
addressed the people.

"It's of no use, your trying to accomplish anything
in this way," said he; "you'd better parley. I'm
willing to come to terms with you, and make every-
thing right on two conditions. "

The people grew quiet then, and the Mayor stepped
forward as spokesman, "Name your two conditions,'*
said he rather testily. "You own, tacitly, that you are
the cause of all this trouble. "

"Well" said the Costumer, reaching out for a hand-
ful of cherries, "this Christmas Masquerade of yours

32 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

was a beautiful idea; but you wouldn't do it every year,
and your successors might not do it at all. I want
those poor children to have a Christmas every year.
My first condition is that every poor child in the city
hangs its stocking for gifts in the City Hall on every
Christmas Eve, and gets it filled, too. I want the
resolution filed and put away in the city archives. "

"We agree to the first condition!" cried the people
with one voice, without waiting for the Mayor and
Aldermen.

"The second condition," said the Costumer, "is that
this good young Cherry-man here has the Mayor's
daughter, Violetta, for his wife. He has been kind to
me, letting me live in his cherry-tree and eat his cherries
and I want to reward him. "

"We consent," cried all the people; but the Mayor,
though he was so generous, was a proud man. "I will
not consent to the second condition," he cried angrily.

"Very well," replied the Costumer, picking some
more cherries, "then your youngest daughter tends
geese the rest of her fife, that's all. "

The Mayor was in great distress; but the thought of
his youngest daughter being a goose-girl all her life was
too much for him. He gave in at last.

"Now go home and take the costumes off your
children," said the Costumer, "and leave me in peace
to eat cherries."

Then the people hastened back to the city, and found,
to their great delight, that the costumes would come

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 33

off. The pins stayed out, the buttons stayed unbut-
toned, and the strings stayed untied. The children were
dressed in their own proper clothes and were their own
proper selves once more. The shepherdesses and the
chimney-sweeps came home, and were washed and
dressed in silks and velvets, and went to embroidering
and playing lawn-tennis. And the princesses and the
fairies put on their own suitable dresses, and went about
their useful employments. There was great rejoicing in
every home. Violetta thought she had never been so
happy, now that her dear little sister was no longer a
goose-girl, but her own dainty little lady-self.

The resolution to provide every poor child in the city
with a stocking full of gifts on Christmas was solemnly
filed, and deposited in the city archives, and was
never broken.

Violetta was married to the Cherry-man, and all the
children came to the wedding, and strewed flowers in
her path till her feet were quite hidden in them. The
Costumer had mysteriously disappeared from the
cherry-tree the night before, but he left at the foot some
beautiful wedding presents for the bride — a silver
service with a pattern of cherries engraved on it, and a
set of china with cherries on it, in hand painting, and
a white satin robe, embroidered with cherries down
the front.

IV

THE SHEPHERDS AND THE ANGELS

ADAPTED FROM THE BIBLE

AND there were shepherds in the same country
l\, abiding in the field, and keeping watch by night
over their flock. And an angel of the Lord stood by
them and the glory of the Lord shone round about
them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said
unto them, Be not afraid; for, behold, I bring you good
tidings of great joy which shall be to all the people: for
there is born to you this day in the city of David a
Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this is the sign
unto you; ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddHng
clothes, and lying in a manger. And suddenly there
was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host
praising God and saying:

Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace,
Good will toward men.

And it came to pass, when the angels went away from
them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another,
Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing
that is come to pass, which the Lord hath made knowD

34

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 35

unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary
and Joseph and the babe lying in the manger. And
when they saw it, they made known concerning the
saying which was spoken to them about this child.
And all that heard it wondered at the things which
were spoken unto them by the shepherds. But Mary
kept all these sayings, pondering them in her heart.
And the shepherds returned glorifying and praising
God for all the things that they had heard and seen,
even as it was spoken unto them.

And when eight days were fulfilled his name was
called

JESUS

V
THE TELLTALE TILE*

OLIVE THORNE MILLER

IT BEGINS with a bit of gossip of a neighbour who
had come in to see Miss Bennett, and was telling
her about a family who had lately moved into the place
and were in serious trouble. "And they do say she'll
have to go to the poorhouse, " she ended.

"To the poorhouse! how dreadful! And the chil-
dren, too?" and Miss Bennett shuddered.

"Yes; unless somebody'U adopt them, and that's
not very likely. WeU, I must go," the visitor went
on, rising. "I wish I could do something for her, but,
with my houseful of children, I've got use for every
penny I can rake and scrape. "

"I'm sure I have, with only myself," said Miss
Bennett, as she closed the door. "I'm sure I have,"
she repeated to herself as she resumed her knitting;
"it's as much as I can do to make ends meet, scrimping
as I do, not to speak of laying up a cent for sickness
and old age. "

"But the poorhouse!" she said again. "I wish I
could help her!" and the needles flew in and out, in and
out, faster than ever, as she turned tliis over in her

*From "Krist>'s Queer Christmas," Houghloii, Mililiii & Co., 1904.

36

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 37

mind. "I might give up something," she said at last,
"though I don't know what, unless — unless," she said
slowly, thinking of her one luxury, "unless I give up
my tea, and it don't seem as if I could do that. "

Some time the thought worked in her mind, and
finally she resolved to make the sacrifice of her only
indulgence for six months, and send the money to her
suffering neighbour, Mrs. Stanley, though she had
never seen her, and she had only heard she was in
want.

How much of a sacrifice that was you can hardly
guess, you, Kristy, who have so many luxuries.

That evening Mrs. Stanley was surprised by a small
gift of money "from a friend," as was said on the en-
velope containing it.

"Who sent it?" she asked, from the bed where she
was lying.

"Miss Bennett told me not to tell," said the boy,
unconscious that he had already told.

The next day Miss Bennett sat at the window knit-
ting, as usual — for her constant contribution to the
poor fund of the church was a certain number of stock-
ings and mittens — when she saw a young girl coming
up to the door of the cottage.

"Who can that be?" she said to herself. "I never
saw her before. Come in!" she called, in answer to a
knock. The girl entered, and walked up to Miss
Bennett.

"Are you Miss Bennett?" she asked.

38 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"Yes," said Miss Bennett with an amused smile.

"Well, I'm Hetty Stanley."

Miss Bennett started, and her colour grew a little
brighter.

"I'm glad to see you, Hetty." she said* "won't you
sit down?"

"Yes, if you please," said Hetty, taking a chair
near her.

"I came to tell you how much we love you
for "

"Oh, don't! don't say any more!" interrupted Miss
Bennett; "never mind that! Tell me about your
mother and your baby brother."

This was an interesting subject, and they talked
earnestly about it. The time passed so quickly that,
before she knew it, she had been in the house an hour.
When she went away Miss Bennett asked her to come
again, a thing she had never been known to do before,
for she was not fond of young people in general.

"But, then, Hetty's different," she said to herself,
when wondering at her own interest.

"Did you thank kind Miss Bennett?" was her
mother's question as Hetty opened the door.

Hetty stopped as if struck, "Why, no! I don't
think I did."

"And stayed so long, too? Whatever did you do?
I've heard she isn't fond of people generally."

"We talked; and — I think she's ever so nice. She
asked me to come again; may I? "

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 39

"Of course you may, if she cares to have you. I
should be glad to do something to please her. "

That visit of Hetty's was the first of a long series.
Almost every day she found her way to the lonely
cottage, where a visitor rarely came, and a strange
intimacy grew up between the old and the young.
Hetty learned of her friend to knit, and many an hour
they spent knitting while Miss Bennett ransacked her
memory for stories to tell. And then, one day, she
brought down from a big chest in the garret two of the
books she used to have when she was young, and let
Hetty look at them.

One was "Thaddeus of Warsaw," and the other
"Scottish Chiefs." Poor Hetty had not the dozens of
books you have, and these were treasures indeed.
She read them to herself, and she read them aloud to
Miss Bennett, who, much to her own surprise, found
her interest almost as eager as Hetty's.

AU this time Christmas was drawing near, and strange,
unusual feelings began to stir in Miss Bennett's
heart, though generally she did not think much about
that happy time. She wanted to make Hetty a happy
day. Money she had none, so she went into the garret,
where her youthful treasures had long been hidden.
From the chest from which she had taken the books
she now took a small box of light-coloured wood, with a
transferred engraving on the cover. With a sigh —
for the sight of it brought up old memories — Miss
Bennett lifted the cover by its loop of ribbon, took out

40 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

a package of old letters, and went downstairs with the
box, taking also a few bits of bright silk from a bundle
in the chest.

"I can fit it up for a workbox," she said, "and I'm
sure Hetty will like it. "

For many days after this Miss Bennett had her
secret work, which she carefully hid when she saw
Hetty coming. Slowly, in this way, she made a pretty
needle-book, a tiny pincushion, and an emery bag like
a big strawberry. Then from her own scanty stock
she added needles, pins, thread, and her only pair of
small scissors, scoured to the last extreme of brightness.
One thing only she had to buy — a thimble, and that
she bought for a penny, of brass so bright it was quite
as handsome as gold.

Very pretty the little box looked when full; in the
bottom lay a quilted lining, which had always been
there, and upon this the fittings she had made. Be-
sides this. Miss Bennett knit a pair of mittens for each
of Hetty's brothers and sisters.

The happiest girl in town on Christmas morning was
Hetty Stanley. To begin with, she had the delight of
giving the mittens to the children, and when she ran
over to tell Miss Bennett how pleased they were, she
was surprised by the present of the odd little workbox
and its pretty contents.

Christmas was over all too soon, and New Year's,
and it was about the middle of January that the time
came which, all her life, Miss Bennett had dreaded —

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 41

the time when she should be helpless. She had not
money enough to hire a girl, and so the only thing she
could imagine when that day should come was her
special horror — the poorhouse.

But that good deed of hers had already borne fruit,
and was still bearing. When Hetty came over one day,
and found her dear friend lying on the floor as if dead,
she was dreadfully frightened, of course, but she ran
after the neighbours and the doctor, and bustled about
the house as if she belonged to it.

Miss Bennett was not dead — she had a slight stroke
of paralysis; and though she was soon better, and
would be able to talk, and probably to knit, and
possibly to get about the house, she would never be able
to live alone and do everything for herself, as she had
done.

So the doctor told the neighbours who came in to
help, and so Hetty heard, as she listened eagerly
for news.

"Of course she can't live here any longer; she'll have
to go to a hospital, " said one woman.

"Or to the poorhouse, more likely," said another.

"She'll hate that," said the first speaker. "I've
beard her shudder over the poorhouse. "

"She shall never go there!" declared Hetty, with
blazing eyes.

"Hoity-toity! who's to prevent?" asked the second
speaker, turning a look of disdain on Hetty.

"I am," was the fearless answer. "I know all

42 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Miss Bennett's ways, and I can take care of her, and
I will," went on Hetty indignantly; and turning sud-
denly, she was surprised to find Miss Bennett's eyes
fixed on her with an eager, questioning look.

"There! she understands! she's better!" cried
Hetty. "Mayn't I stay and take care of you, dear
Miss Bennett?" she asked, running up to the bed.

"Yes, you may," interrupted the doctor, seeing the
look in his patient's face; "but you mustn't agitate her
now. And now, my good women" — turning to the
others — "I think she can get along with her young
friend here, whom I happen to know is a womanly
young girl, and will be attentive and careful. "

They took the hint and went away, and the doctor
gave directions to Hetty what to do, telling her she
must not leave Miss Bennett. So she was now regularly
installed as nurse and housekeeper.

Days and weeks roUed by. Miss Bennett was able
to be up in her chair, to talk and knit, and to walk
about the house, but was not able to be left alone.
Indeed, she had a horror of being left alone; she could
not bear Hetty out of her sight, and Hetty's mother
was very willing to spare her, for she had many mouths
tofiU.

To provide food for two out of what had been
scrimping for one was a problem; but Miss Bennett ate
very httle, and she did not resume her tea so they
managed to get along and not reaUy suffer.

One day Hetty sat by the fire with her precious box

CHH^DREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 43

on her knee, which she was putting to rights for the
twentieth time. The box was empty, and her sharp
young eyes noticed a little dust on the silk lining.

"I think I'll take this out and dust it," she said to
Miss Bennett, "if you don't mind."

"Do as you like with it," answered Miss Bennett;
"it is yours."

So she carefully lifted the silk, which stuck a little.

"Why, here's something under it," she said — "an
old paper, and it has writing on. "

"Bring it to me," said Miss Bennett; "perhaps it's
a letter I have forgotten. '*

Hetty brought it.

"Why, it's father's writing!" said Miss Bennett,
looking closely at the faded paper; "and what can it
mean? I never saw it before. It says, 'Look, and
ye shall find ' — that's a Bible text. And what is this
under it? 'A word to the wise is sufficient.' I don't
understand — he must have put it there himself, for
I never took that lining out — I thought it was fast-
ened. What can it mean?" and she pondered over
it long, and all day seemed absent-minded.

After tea, when they sat before the kitchen fire, as
they always did, with only the firelight flickering and
dancing on the walls while they knitted, or told stories,
or talked, she told Hetty about her father: that they
had lived comfortably in this house, which he built,
and that everybody supposed that he had plenty of
money, and would leave enough to take care of his only

44 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

child, but that when he died suddenly nothing had been
found, and nothing ever had been, from that day to
this.

"Part of the place I let to John Thompson, Hetty,
and that rent is all I have to live on. I don't know
what makes me think of old times so to-night. "

"I know," said Hetty; "it's that paper, and I know
what it reminds me of, " she suddenly shouted, in a way
very unusual with her. "It's that tile over there,"
and she jumped up and ran to the side of the fireplace,
and put her hand on the tile she meant.

On each side of the fireplace was a row of tiles. They
were Bible subjects, and Miss Bennett had often told
Hetty the story of each one, and also the stories she
used to make up about them when she was young.
The one Hetty had her hand on now bore the picture
of a woman standing before a closed door, and below
her the words of the yellow bit of paper: "Look, and
ye shall find. "

"I always felt there was something different about
that," said Hetty eagerly, "and you know you told
me your father talked to you about it — about what
to seek in the world when he was gone away, and other
things. "

"Yes, so he did," said Miss Bennett thoughtfully;
"come to think of it, he said a great deal about it, and
in a meaning way. I don't understand it," she said
slowly, turning it over in her mind.

"I do!" cried Hetty, enthusiastically. "I beHeve

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 45

you are to seek here! I believe it's loose!" and she
tried to shake it. "It is loose!" she cried excitedly.
"Oh, Miss Bennett, may I take it out?"

Miss Bennett had turned deadly pale. "Yes," she
gasped, hardly knowing what she expected, or dared
to hope.

A sudden push from Hetty's strong fingers, and the
tile slipped out at one side and fell to the floor. Behind
it was an opening into the brickwork. Hetty thrust
in her hand.

"There's something in there!" she said in an awed
tone.

"A light!" said Miss Bennett hoarsely.

There was not a candle in the house, but Hetty
seized a brand from the fire, and held it up and
looked in.

"It looks like bags — tied up," she cried. "Oh,
come here yourself!"

The old woman hobbled over and thrust her hand
into the hole, bringing out what was once a bag, but
which crumpled to pieces in her hands, and with it —
oh, wonder! — a handful of gold pieces, which fell with
a jingle on the hearth, and rolled every way.

" My father's money! Oh, Hetty! " was all she could
say, and she seized a chair to keep from falling, while
Hetty was nearly wild, and talked like a crazy person.

"Oh, goody! goody! now you can have things to eat!
and we can have a candle! and you won't have to go
to the poorhouse ! "

46 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"No, indeed, you dear child!" cried Miss Bennett
who had found her voice. "Thanks to you — you
blessing! — I shall be comfortable now the rest of
my days. And you! oh! I shall never forget you!
Through you has everything good come to me."

"Oh, but you have been so good to me, dear Miss
Bennett!"

"I should never have guessed it, you precious child!
If it had not been for your quickness I should have died
and never found it. "

"And if you hadn't given me the box, it might have
rusted away in that chest. "

"Thank God for everything, child! Take money
out of my purse and go buy a candle. We need not
save it for bread now. Oh, child!" she interrupted
herself, "do you know, we shall have everything we
want to-morrow. Go! Go! I want to see how much
there is."

The candle bought, the gold was taken out and
counted, and proved to be more than enough to give
Miss Bennett a comfortable income without touching
the principal. It was put back, and the tile replaced,
as the safest place to keep it till morning, when Miss
Bennett intended to put it into a bank.

But though they went to bed, there was not a wink
of sleep for Miss Bennett, for planning what she would
do. There were a thousand things she wanted to do
first. To get clothes for Hetty, to brighten up the old
house, to hire a girl to relieve Hetty, so that the dear

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 47

child should go to school, to train her into a noble
woman — all her old ambitions and wishes for herself
sprang into life for Hetty. For not a thought of her
future life was separate from Hetty.

In a very short time everything was changed in
Miss Bennett's cottage. She had publicly adopted
Hetty, and announced her as her heir. A girl had been
installed in the kitchen, and Hetty, in pretty new
clothes, had begun school. Fresh paint inside and out,
with many new comforts, made the old house charming
and bright. But nothing could change the pleasant
and happy relations between the two friends, and a
more contented and cheerful household could not be
found anywhere.

Happiness is a wonderful doctor and Miss Bennett
grew so much better, that she could travel, and when
Hetty had finished school days, they saw a little of the
world before they settled down to a quiet, useful life.

"Every comfort on earth I owe to you," said Hetty,
one day, when Miss Bennett had proposed some new
thing to add to her enjoyment.

"Ah, dear Hetty! how much do I owe to you! But
for you, I should, no doubt, be at this moment a shiver-
ing pauper in that terrible poorhouse, while some one
else would be living in this dear old house. And it all
comes," she added softly, "of that one unselfish
thought, of that one self-denial for others. "

VI

LITTLE GIRL'S CHRISTMAS

WINNIFRED E. LINCOLN

IT WAS Christmas Eve, and Little Girl had just
hung up her stocking by the fireplace — right where
it would be all ready for Santa when he sUpped down
the chimney. She knew he was coming, because —
well, because it was Christmas Eve, and because he
always had come to leave gifts for her on all the other
Christmas Eves that she could remember, and because
she had seen his pictures everywhere down town that
afternoon when she was out with Mother.

Still, she wasn't just satisfied. 'Way down in her
heart she was a little uncertain — you see, when you
have never really and truly seen a person with your
very own eyes, it's hard to feel as if you exactly believed
in him — even though that person always has left
beautiful gifts for you every time he has come.

"Oh, he'll come," said Little Girl; "I just know he
will be here before morning, but somehow I wish "

"Well, what do you wish?" said a Tiny Voice close
by her — so close that Little Girl fairly jumped when
she heard it.

"Why, I wish I could see Santa myself. I'd just

48

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 49

like to go and see his house and his workshop, and ride
in his sleigh, and know Mrs. Santa — 'twould be such
fun, and then I'd know for sure. "

" Why don't you go, then? " said Tiny Voice. " It's
easy enough. Just try on these Shoes, and take this
Light in your hand, and you'll find your way all right. "

So Little Girl looked down on the hearth, and there
were two cunning Httle Shoes side by side, and a httle
Spark of a Light close to them — just as if they were
all made out of one of the glowing coals of the wood-
fire. Such cunning Shoes as they were — Little Girl
could hardly wait to pull off her slippers and try them
on. They looked as if they were too small, but they
weren't — they fitted exactly right, and just as Little
Girl had put them both on and had taken the Light in
her hand, along came a httle Breath of Wind, and away
she went up the chimney, along with ever so many
other httle Sparks, past the Soot Fairies, and out into
the Open Air, where Jack Frost and the Star Beams
were all busy at work making the world look pretty
for Christmas.

Away went Little Girl — Two Shoes, Bright Light,
and all — higher and higher, until she looked hke a
wee bit of a star up in the sky. It was the funniest
thing, but she seemed to know the way perfectly, and
didn't have to stop to make inquiries anywhere. You
see it was a straight road all the way, and when one
doesn't have to think about turning to the right or the
left, it makes things very much easier. Pretty soon

so CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Little Girl noticed that there was a bright light all
around her — oh, a very bright light — and right
away something down in her heart began to make her
feel very happy indeed. She didn't know that the
Christmas spirits and little Christmas fairies were all
around her and even right inside her, because she
couldn't see a single one of them, even though her eyes
were very bright and could usually see a great deal.

But that was just it, and Little Girl felt as if she
wanted to laugh and sing and be glad. It made her
remember the Sick Boy who lived next door, and she
said to herself that she would carry him one of her
prettiest picture-books in the morning, so that he
could have something to make him happy all day.
By and by, when the bright light all around her had
grown very, very much brighter. Little Girl saw a path
right in front of her, all straight and trim, leading up a
hill to a big, big house with ever and ever so many
windows in it. When she had gone just a bit nearer,
she saw candles in every window, red and green and
yellow ones, and every one burning brightly, so Little
Girl knew right away that these were Christmas
candles to light her on her journey, and make the way
clear for her, and something told her that this was
Santa's house, and that pretty soon she would perhaps
see Santa himself.

Just as she neared the steps and before she could
possibly have had time to ring the bell, the door opened
• — opened of itself as wide 9-s could b^ — and there

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 51

stood — not Santa himself — don't think it — but
a funny Little Man with slender little legs and a roly-
poly stomach which shook every now and then when he
laughed. You would have known right away, just as
Little Girl knew, that he was a very happy httle man,
and you would have guessed right away, too, that the
reason he was so roly-poly was because he laughed and
chuckled and smiled all the time — for it's only sour,
cross folks who are thin and skimpy. Quick as a
wink, he pulled off his little peaked red cap, smiled the
broadest kind of a smile, and said, "Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas ! Come in ! Come in ! "

So in went Little Girl, holding fast to Little Man's
hand, and when she was really inside there was the
jolliest, reddest fire all glowing and snapping, and there'
were Little Man and all his brothers and sisters, who
^aid their names were "Merry Christmas," and *'Good
Cheer," and ever so many other joUy-sounding things,
and there were such a lot of them that Little Girl just
knew she never could count them, no matter how long
she tried.

All around her were bundles and boxes and piles of
toys and games, and Little Girl knew that these were
all ready and waiting to be loaded into Santa's big
sleigh for his reindeer to whirl them away over cloud-
tops and snowdrifts to the little people down below
who had left their stockings all ready for him. Pretty
soon all the Httle Good Cheer Brothers began to hurry
and bustle and carry out the bundles as fast as they

52 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

could to the steps where Little Girl could hear the jing-
ling bells and the stamping of hoofs. So Little Girl
picked up some bundles and skipped along too, for she
wanted to help a bit herself — it's no fun whatever at
Christmas unless you can help, you know — anfd there
in the yard stood the biggest sleigh that Little Girl
had ever seen, and the reindeer were all stamping and
prancing and jingling the beUs on their harnesses,
because they were so eager to be on their way to the
Earth once more.

She could hardly wait for Santa to come, and just as
she had begun to wonder where he was, the door opened
again and out came a whole forest of Christmas trees,
at least it looked just as if a whole forest had started
out for a walk somewhere, but a second glance showed
Little Girl that there were thousands of Christmas
sprites, and that each one carried a tree or a big Christ-
mas wreath on his back. Behind them all, she could
hear some one laughing loudly, and talking in a big,
jovial voice that sounded as if he were good friends
with the whole world.

And straightway she knew that Santa himself was
coming. Little Girl's heart went pit-a-pat for a minute
while she wondered if Santa would notice her, but she
didn't have to wonder long, for he spied her at once
and said:

"Bless my soul! who's this? and where did you
come from?"

Little Girl thought perhaps she might be afraid to

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 53

answer him, but she wasn't one bit afraid. You see he
had such a kind httle twinkle in his eyes that she felt
happy right away as she repHed, "Oh, I'm Little Girl,
and I wanted so much to see Santa that I just came,
and here I am!'"

"Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!" laughed Santa, "and here you
are ! Wanted to see Santa, did you, and so you came !
Now that's very nice, and it's too bad I'm in such a
hurry, for we should hke nothing better than to show
you about and give you a real good time. But you see
it is quarter of twelve now, and I must be on my way
at once, else I'll never reach that first chimney- top by
midnight. I'd call Mrs. Santa and ask her to get you
some supper, but she is busy finishing doUs' clothes
which must be done before morning, and I guess we'd
better not bother her. Is there anything that you
would like. Little Girl?" and good old Santa put his
big warm hand on Little Girl's curls and she felt its
warmth and kindness clear down to her very heart.
You see, my dears, that even though Santa was in such
a great hurry, he wasn't too busy to stop and make
some one happy for a minute, even if it was some one
no bigger than Little Girl.

So she smiled back into Santa's face and said: " Oh,
Santa, if I could only ride down to Earth with you
behind those splendid reindeer! I'd love to go; won't
you please take me? I'm so small that I won't take
up much room on the seat, and I'U keep very still and
not bother one bit!"

54 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Then Santa laughed, such a laugh, big and loud and
rollicking, and he said, "Wants a ride, does she? Well,
well, shall we take her. Little Elves? Shall we take her,
Little Fairies? Shall we take her. Good Reindeer?"

And all the Little Elves hopped and skipped and
brought Little Girl a sprig of hoUy; and aU the Little
Fairies bowed and smiled and brought her a bit of
mistletoe; and aU the Good Reindeer jingled their bells
loudly, which meant, "Oh, yes! let's take her! She's
a good Little Girl! Let her ride!" And before Little
Girl could even think, she found herself all tucked up
in the big fur robes beside Santa, and away they went,
right out into the air, over the clouds, through the
Milky Way, and right under the very handle of the
Big Dipper, on, on, toward the Earthland, whose lights
Little Girl began to see twinkling away down below
her. Presently she felt the runners scrape upon some-
thing, and she knew they must be on some one's roof,
and that Santa would shp down some one's chimney
in a minute.

How she wanted to go, too! You see if you had
never been down a chimney and seen Santa fill up the
stockings, you would want to go quite as much as
Little Girl did, now, wouldn't you? So, just as Little
Girl was wishing as hard as ever she could wish, she
heard a Tiny Voice say, "Hold tight to his arm! Hold
tight to his arm!" So she held Santa's arm tight and
close, and he shouldered his pack, never thinking that
it was heavier than usual, and with a bound and a slide,

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 55

there they were, Santa, Little Girl, pack and all, right
in the middle of a room where there was a fireplace
and stockings all hung up for Santa to fill.

Just then Santa noticed Little Girl. He had for-'
gotten all about her for a minute, and he was very
much surprised to find that she had come, too, "Bless
my soul!" he said, "where did you come from. Little
Girl? and how in the world can we both get back up
that chimney again? It's easy enough to slide down,
but it's quite another matter to climb up again!" and
Santa looked real worried. But Little Girl was begin-
ning to feel very tired by this time, for she had had a
very exciting evening, so she said, "Oh, never mind me,
Santa. I've had such a good time, and I'd just as soon
stay here a while as not. I believe I'll curl up on his
hearth-rug a few minutes and have a Httle nap, for it
looks as warm and cozy as our own hearth-rug at home,
and — why, it is our own hearth and it's my own
nursery, for theie is Teddy Bear in his chair where I
leave him every night, and there's Bunny Cat curled
up on his cushion in the corner. "

And Little Girl turned to thank Santa and say good-
bye to him, but either he had gone very quickly, or else
she had fallen asleep very quickly — she never could
teU which — for the next thing she knew, Daddy was
holding her in his arms and was saying, "What is my
Little Girl doing here? She must go to bed, for it's
Christmas Eve, and old Santa won't come if he thinks
there are any Httle folks about. "

S6 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

But Little Girl knew better than that, and when she
began to tell him all about it, and how the Christmas
fairies had welcomed her, and how Santa had given
her such a fine ride, Daddy laughed and laughed, and
said, "You've been dreaming. Little Girl, you've
been dreaming."

But Little Girl knew better than that, too, for there
on the hearth was the little Black Coal, which had given
her Two Shoes and Bright Light, and tight in her hand
she held a holly berry which one of the Christmas
Sprites had placed there. More than all that, there
she was on the hearth-rug herself, just as Santa had
left her, and that was the best proof of aU.

The trouble was. Daddy himself had never been a
Little Girl, so he couldn't tell anything about it, but
we know she hadn't been dreaming, now, don't we,
my dears?

VII

"A CHRISTMAS MATINEE"*

MRS. M. A. L. LANE

IT WAS the day before Christmas in the year
189 — . Snow was falling heavily in the streets
of Boston, but the crowd of shoppers seemed undi-
minished. As the storm increased, groups gathered at
the corners and in sheltering doorways to wait for be-
lated cars; but the hoHday cheer was in the air, and
there was no grumbling. Mothers dragging tired
children through the slush of the streets; pretty girls
hurrying home for the holidays; here and there a
harassed-looking man with perhaps a single package
which he had taken a whole morning to select — all
had the same spirit of tolerant good-humor.

"School Street! School Street!" called the conductor
of an electric car. A group of young people at the far-
ther end of the car started to their feet. One of them,
a young man wearing a heavy fur-trimmed coat,
addressed the conductor angrily.

"I said, 'Music Hall,' didn't I?" he demanded.
"Now we've got to walk back in the snow because of
your stupidity!"

♦This story was first published in the Youth's Companion, vol. 74.
57

58 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

" Oh, never mind, Frank! " one of the girls interposed
*'We ought to have been looking out ourselves! Six
of us, and we went by without a thought! It is aU
Mrs. TirreU's fault ! She shouldn't have been so enter-
taining!"

The young matron dimpled and blushed. "That's
charming of you, Maidie," she said, gathering up her
silk skirts as she prepared to step down into the pond
before her. "The compliment makes up for the blame.
But how it snows!"

"It doesn't matter. We all have gaiters on," re-
turned Maidie Williams, undisturbed.

"Fares, please!" said the conductor stolidly.

Frank Armstrong thrust his gloved hand deep into
his pocket with angry vehemence. "There's your
money," he said, "and be quick about the change, wiU
you? We've lost time enough!"

The man counted out the change with stiff, red
fingers, closed his lips firmly as if to keep back an
obvious rejoinder, rang up the six fares with careful
accuracy, and gave the signal to go ahead. The car
went on into the drifting storm.

Armstrong laughed shortly as he rapidly counted the
bits of silver lying in his open palm. He turned instinc-
tively, but two or three cars were already between him
and the one he was looking for.

"The fellow must be an imbecile," he said, rejoining
the group on the crossing. " He's given me back a dollar
and twenty cents, and I handed him a dollar biU. "

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 59

"Oh, can't you stop him?" cried Maidie Williams,
with a backward step into the wet street.

The Harvard junior, who was carrying her umbrella,
protested: "What's the use. Miss Williams? He'll
make it up before he gets to ScoUay Square, you may
be sure. Those chaps don't lose anything. Why, the
other day, I gave one a quarter and he went off as cool
as you please. 'Where's my change?' said I. *You
gave me a nickel,' said he. And there wasn't anybody
to swear that I didn't except myself, and I didn't
count."

"But that doesn't make any difference," insisted the
girl warmly. "Because one conductor was dishonest,
we needn't be. I beg your pardon, Frank, but it does
seem to me just steaHng. "

"Oh, come along!" said her cousin, with an easy
laugh. "I guess the West End Corporation won't go
without their dinners to-morrow. Here, Maidie, here's
the ill-gotten fifty cents. / think you ought to treat
us all after the concert; still, I won't urge you. I wash
my hands of aU responsibility. But I do wish you
hadn't such an unpleasant conscience. "

Maidie flushed under the sting of his cousinly rude-
ness, but she went on quietly with the rest. It was
evident that any attempt to overtake the car was out
of the question.

"Did you notice his number, Frank?" she asked;
suddenly.

"No, I never thought of it" said Frank, stopping

6o CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

short. "However, I probably shouldn't make any
complaint if I had. I shall forget all about it to-
morrow. I find it's never safe to let the sun go down
on my wrath. It's very likely not to be there the next
day."

"I wasn't thinking of making a complaint," said
Maidie; but the two young men were enjoying the
small joke too much to notice what she said.

The great doorway of Music Hall was just ahead.
In a moment the party were within its friendly shelter,
stamping off the snow. The girls were adjusting veils
and hats with adroit feminine touches; the pretty
chaperon was beaming approval upon them, and the
young men were taking off their wet overcoats, when
Maidie turned again in sudden desperation.

"Mr. Harris," she said, rather faintly, for she did
not like to make herself disagreeable, "do you suppose
that car comes right back from ScoUay Square?"

"What car?" asked Walter Harris, blankly. "Oh,
the one we came in? Yes, I suppose it does. They're
running all the time, anyway. Why, you are not sick,
are you, Miss WiUiams?"

There was genuine concern in his tone. This girl,
with her sweet, vibrant voice, her clear gray eyes,
seemed very charming to him. She wasn't beautiful,
perhaps, but she was the kind of girl he liked. There
was a steady earnestness in the gray eyes that made
him think of his mother.

"No," said Maidie, slowly. "I'm all right, thank

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 6i

you. But I wish I could find that man again. I know
sometimes they have to make it up if their accounts are
wrong, and I couldn't — we couldn't feel very comfor-
table "

Frank Armstrong interrupted her. "Maidie," he
said, with the studied calmness with which one speaks
to an unreasonable child, "you are perfectly absurd.
Here it is within five minutes of the time for the concert
to begin. It is impossible to tell when that car is com-
ing back. You are making us all very uncomfortable.
Mrs. Tirrill, won't you please tell her not to spoil our
afternoon?"

"I think he's right, Maidie," said Mrs. Tirrell.
" It's very nice of you to feel so sorry for the poor man,
but he really was very careless. It was all his own
fault. And just think how far he made us walk!
My feet are quite damp. We ought to go in directly
or we shall all take cold, and I'm sure you wouldn't
like that, my dear."

She led the way as she spoke, the two girls and young
Armstrong following. Maidie hesitated. It was so
easy to go in, to forget everything in the light and
warmth and excitement.

"No," said she, very firmly, and as much to herself
as to the young man who stood waiting for her. "I
must go back and try to make it right. I'm so sorry,
Mr. Harris, but if you will tell them — — "

"Why, I'm going with you, of course" said the young
fellow, impulsively. "If I'd only looked once at the

62 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

man I'd go alone, but I shouldn't know him from
Adam."

Maidie laughed. " Oh, I don't want to lose the whole
concert, Mr. Harris, and Frank has aU the tickets.
You must go after them and try to make my peace.
I'll come just as soon as I can. Don't wait for me,
please. If you'll come and look for me here the first

number, and not let them scold me too much "

She ended with an imploring little catch in her breath
that was almost a sob.

"They sha'n't say a word. Miss Williams!" cried
Walter Harris, with honest admiration in his eyes.
But she was gone already, and conscious that further
delay was only making matters worse, he went on into
the hall.

Meanwhile, the car swung heavily along the wet
rails on its way to the turning-point. It was nearly
empty now. An old gentleman and his nurse were the
only occupants. Jim Stevens, the conductor, had
stepped inside the car.

" Too bad I forgot those young people wanted to get
off at Music Hall," he was thinking to himself. "I
don't see how I came to do it. That chap looked as
if he wanted to complain of me, and I don't know as
I blame him. I'd have said I was sorry if he hadn't
been so sharp with his tongue. I hope he won't com-
plain just now. 'Twould be a pretty bad time for me
to get into trouble, with Mary and the baby both sick.
I'm too sleepy to be good for much, that's a fact.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 63

Sitting up three nights running takes hold of a fellow
somehow when he's at work all day. The rent's paid,
that's one thing, if it hasn't left me but half a dollar
to my name. Hullo!" He was struck by a sudden
distinct recollection of the coins he had returned.
"Why, I gave him fifty cents too much!"

He glanced up at the dial which indicated the fares
and began to count the change in his pocket. He
knew exactly how much money he had had at the
beginning of the trip. He counted carefully. Then
he plunged his hand into the heavy canvas pocket of
his coat. Perhaps he had half a dollar there. No. it
was empty!"

He faced the fact reluctantly. Fifty cents short,
ten fares! Gone into the pocket of the young gentle-
man with the fur collar! The conductor's hand shook
as he put the money back in his pocket. It meant —
what did it mean? He drew a long breath.

Christmas Eve! A dark dreary little room upstairs
in a noisy tenement house. A pale, thin woman on a
shabby lounge vainly trying to quiet a fretful child.
The child is thin and pale, too, with a hard, racking
cough. There is a small fire in the stove, a veiy small
fire; coal is so high. The medicine stands on the shelf.
"Medicine won't do much good," the doctor had said;
"he needs beef and cream. "

Jim's heart sank at the thought. He could almost
hear the baby asking: "Isn't papa coming soon? Isn't
he, mamma?"

64 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"Poor little kid!" Jim said, softly, under his breath.
"And I shan't have a thing to take home to him; nor
Mary's violets, either. It'll be the first Christmas
that ever happened. I suppose that chap would think
it was ridiculous for me to be buying violets. He
wouldn't understand what the flowers mean to Mary.
Perhaps he didn't notice I gave him too much. That
kind don't know how much they have. They just pull
it out as if it was newspaper. "

The conductor went out into the snow to help the
nurse, who was assisting the old gentleman to the
ground. Then the car swung on again. Jim turned
up the collar of his coat about his ears and stamped his
feet. There was the florist's shop where he had meant
to buy the violets, and the toy-shop was just around
the corner.

A thought flashed across his tired brain. "Plenty
of men would do it; they do it every day. Nobody
ever would be the poorer for it. This car will be
crowded going home. I needn't ring in every fare;
nobody could tell. But Mary! She wouldn't touch
those violets if she knew. And she'd know. I'd have to
tell her. I couldn't keep it from her, she's that quick. "

He jumped off to adjust the trolley with a curious
sense of unreality. It couldn't be that he was really
going home this Christmas Eve with empty hands.
Well, they must all suffer together for his carelessness.
It was his own fault, but it was hard. And he was so
tired!

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 65

To his amazement he found his eyes were blurred as
he watched the people crowding into the car. What I
Was he going to cry Uke a baby — he, a great burly
man of thirty years?

" It's no use, " he thought. " I couldn't do it. The
first time I gave Mary violets was the night she said
she'd marry me. I told her then I'd do my best to
make her proud of me. I guess she wouldn't be very
proud of a man who could cheat. She'd rather starve
than have a ribbon she couldn't pay for. "

He rang up a dozen fares with a steady hand. The
temptation was over. Six more strokes — then nine
without a falter. He even imagined the bell rang
more distinctly than usual, even encouragingly.

The car stopped. Jim flung the door open with a
triumphant sweep of his arm. He felt ready to face
the world. But the baby — his arm dropped. It
was hard.

He turned to help the young girl who was waiting
at the step. Through the whirHng snow he saw her
eager face, with a quick recognition hghting the steady
eyes, and wondered dimly, as he stood with his hand on
the signal-strap, where he could have seen her before.
He knew immediately.

"There was a mistake," she said, with a shy tremor
in her voice. "You gave us too much change and here
it is." She held out to Jim the piece of silver which
had given him such an unhappy quarter of an hour.

He took it Uke one dazed. Would the young lady

66 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

think he was crazy to care so much about so small a
coin? He must say something. "Thank you, miss,"
he stammered as well as he could. " You see, I thought
it was gone — and there's the baby — and it's
Christmas Eve — and my wife's sick — and you can't
understand "

It certainly was not remarkable that she couldn't.

"But I do, " she said, simply. " I was afraid of that.
And I thought perhaps there was a baby, so I brought
my Christmas present for her," and something else
dropped into Jim's cold hand.

"What you waiting for?" shouted the motormaD
from the front platform. The girl had disappeared
in the snow.

Jim rang the bell to go ahead, and gazed again at the
two shining half dollars in his hand.

"I didn't have a chance to tell her," he explained to
his wife late in the evening, as he sat in a tiny rocking-
chair several sizes too small for him, "that the baby
wasn't a her at all, though if I thought he'd grow up
into such a lovely one as she is, I don't know but I
almost wish he was. "

" Poor Jim ! " said Mary, with a little laugh as she put
up her hand to stroke his rough cheek. "I guess
you're tired."

"And I should say," he added, stretching out his
long legs toward the few red sparks in the bottom of
the grate, "I should say she had tears in her eyes, too,
but I was that near crying myself I couldn't be sure. "

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 67

The little room was sweet with the odour of English
violets. Asleep in the bed lay the boy, a toy horse
clasped close to his breast.

" Bless her heart ! " said Mary, softly.

"Well, Miss WiUiams," said Walter Harris, as he
sprang to meet a snow-covered figure coming swiftly
along the sidewalk. "I can see that you found him.
You've lost the first number, but they won't scold you
■ — not this time."

The girl turned a radiant face upon him. "Thank
you," she said, shaking the snowy crystals from her
skirt. "I don't care now if they do. I should have
lost more than that if I had stayed. "

VIII
TOINETTE AND THE ELVES*

SUSAN COOLIDGE

THE winter's sun was nearing the horizon^s edge.
Each moment the tree shadows grew longer in
the forest; each moment the crimson light on the
upper boughs became more red and bright. It was
Christmas Eve, or would be in half an hour,
when the sun should be fairly set; but it did not
feel Hke Christmas, for the afternoon was mild and
sweet, and the wind in the leafless boughs sang, as
it moved about, as though to imitate the vanished
birds. Soft trills and whistles, odd little shakes and
twitters — it was astonishing what pretty noises the
wind made, for it was in good humor, as winds should
be on the Blessed Night; all its storm-tones and bass-
notes were for the moment laid aside, and gently as
though hushing a baby to sleep, it cooed and rustled
and brushed to and fro in the leafless woods.

Toinette stood, pitcher in hand, beside the well.
"Wishing WeU," the people called it, for they beheved
that if any one standing there bowed to the East,
repeated a certain rhyme and wished a wish, the wish

•Published by arrangement with Little, Brown & Co

68

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 69

would certainly come true. Unluckily, nobody knew
exactly what the rhyme should be. Toinette did not;
she was wishing that she did, as she stood with her eyes
fixed on the bubbhng water. How nice it would be!
she thought. What beautiful things should be hers,
if it were only to wish and to have. She would be
beautiful, rich, good — oh, so good. The children
should love her dearly, and never be disagreeable.
Mother should not work so hard — they should all go
back to France — which mother said was si belle.
Oh, dear, how nice it would be. Meantime, the sun
sank lower, and mother at home was waiting for the
water, but Toinette forgot that.

Suddenly she started. A low sound of crying met
her ear, and something like a tiny moan. It seemed
close by but she saw nothing.

Hastily she filled her pitcher and turned to go. But
again the sound came, an unmistakable sob, right under
her feet. Toinette stopped short.

"What is the matter?" she called out bravely. "Is
anybody there? and if there is, why don't I see you? "

A third sob — and all at once, down on the ground
beside her, a tiny figure became visible, so small that
Toinette had to kneel and stoop her head to see it
plainly. The figure was that of an odd Httle man. He
wore a garb of green bright and glancing as the scales
of a beetle. In his mite of a hand was a cap, out of
which stuck a long pointed feather. Two specks of
tears stood on his cheeks and he fixed on Toinette a

70 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

glance so sharp and so sad that it made her feel sorry
and frightened and confused all at once.

"Why how funny this is!" she said, speaking to
herseK out loud.

"Not at all," replied the little man, in a voice as dry
and crisp as the chirr of a grasshopper. "Anything
but funny. I wish you wouldn't use such words.
It hurts my feehngs, Toinette. "

"Do you know my name, then?" cried Toinette,
astonished. " That's strange. But what is the matter?
Why are you crying so, little man?"

"I'm not a httle man. I'm an elf," responded the
dry voice; "and I think you'd cry if you had an en-
gagement out to tea, and found yourself spiked on a
great bayonet, so that you couldn't move an inch.
Look!" He turned a httle as he spoke and Toinette
saw a long rosethorn sticking through the back of the
green robe. The httle man could by no means reach
the thorn, and it held him fast prisoner to the place.

" Is that all? I'U take it out for you, " she said.

"Be careful — oh, be careful," entreated the little
man. "This is my new dress, you know — my Christ-
mas suit, and it's got to last a year. If there is a hole
in it, Peascod will tickle me and Bean Blossom tease,
till I shall wish myself dead. " He stamped with vexa-
tion at the thought.

"Now, you mustn't do that," said Toinette, in a
motherly tone, "else you'll tear it yourself, you know."
She broke off the thorn as she spoke, and gently drew it

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 71

out. The elf anxiously examined the stuff. A tiny
puncture only was visible and his face brightened.

"You're a good child," he said. "I'll do as much
for you some day, perhaps. "

"I would have come before if I had seen you,"
remarked Toinette, timidly. "But I didn't see you
a bit."

"No, because I had my cap on," cried the elf. He
placed it on his head as he spoke, and hey, presto!
nobody was there, only a voice which laughed and said :
" Well — don't stare so. Lay your finger on me now. "

" Oh, " said Toinette, with a gasp. "How wonderful.
What fun it must be to do that. The children wouldn't
see me. I should steal in and surprise them; they
would go on talking, and never guess that I was there.
I should so like it. Do elves ever lend their caps tc
anybody? I wish you'd lend me yours. It must be
so nice to be invisible. "

"Ho," cried the elf, appearing suddenly again.
"Lend my cap, indeed! Why it wouldn't stay on the
very tip of your ear, it's so small. As for nice, that
depends. Sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't.
No, the only way for mortal people to be invisible is to
gather the fern-seed and put it in their shoes. "

" Gather it? Where? I never saw any seed to the
ferns," said Toinette, staring about her.

"Of course not — we elves take care of that," re-
pHed the httle man. "Nobody finds the fern-seed
but ourselves. I'll tell you what, though. You were

72 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

such a nice child to take out the thorn so cleverly, that
I'll give you a Httle of the seed. Then you can try the
fun of being invisible, to your heart's content. "

"Will you really? How delightful. May I have
it now?"

"Bless me. Do you think I carry my pockets
stuffed with it? " said the elf. "Not at all. Go home,
say not a word to any one, but leave your bedroom
window open to night, and you'll see what you'll
see."

He laid his finger on his nose as he spoke, gave a
jump like a grasshopper, clapping on his cap as he
went, and vanished. Toinette Hngered a moment, in
hopes that he might come back, then took her pitcher
and hurried home. The woods were very dusky by
this time; but full of her strange adventures, she did
not remember to feel afraid.

"How long you have been," said her mother. "It's
late for a little maid hke you to be up. You must make
better speed another time, my child. '*

Toinette pouted as she was apt to do when reproved.
The children clamoured to know what had kept her,
and she spoke pettishly and crossly; so that they too
became cross, and presently went away into the outer
kitchen to play by themselves. The children were apt
to creep away when Toinette came. It made her
angry and unhappy at times that they should do so,
but she did not realize that it was in great part her own
fault, and so did not set herself to mend it.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 73

"Tell me a 'tory," said baby Jeanneton, creeping to
her knee a little later. But Toinette's head was full
of the elf; she had no time to spare for Jeanneton.

"Oh, not to-night," she repHed. "Ask mother to
tell you one."

"Mother's busy," said Jeanneton wistfully.

Toinette took no notice and the little one crept away
disconsolately.

Bedtime at last. Toinette set the casement open,
and lay a long time waiting and watching; then she fell
asleep. She waked with a sneeze and jump and sat up
in bed. Behold, on the coverlet stood her elfin friend,
with a long train of other elves beside him, all clad
in the beetle-wing green, and wearing Httle pointed
caps. More were coming in at the window; outside a
few were drifting about in the moon rays, which lit
their sparkling robes till they gUttered like so many
fireflies. The odd thing was, that though the caps
were on, Toinette could see the elves distinctly and
this surprised her so much, that again she thought out
loud and said, "How funny. "

"You mean about the caps," replied her special elf,
who seemed to have the power of reading thought.
"Yes, you can see us to-night, caps and all. Spells
lose their value on Christmas Eve, always. Peascod,
where is the box? Do you still wish to try the experi-
ment of being invisible, Toinette?"

"Oh, yes — indeed I do."

"Very weU; so let it be."

74 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

As he spoke he beckoned, and two elves puffing and
panting Hke httle men with a heavy load, dragged for-
ward a droll little box about the size of a pumpkin-seed.
One of them lifted the cover.

"Pay the porter, please, ma'am," he said giving
Toinette's ear a mischievous tweak with his sharp
fingers.

"Hands off, you bad Peascod!" cried Toinette's elf.
" This is my girl. She shan't be pinched!" He dealt
Peascod a blow with his tiny hand as he spoke and
looked so brave and warlike that he seemed at least an
inch taller than he had before. Toinette admired him
very much; and Peascod slunk away with an abashed
giggle muttering that Thistle needn't be so ready with
his fist.

Thistle — for thus, it seemed, Toinette's friend was
named — dipped his fingers in the box, which was full
of fine brown seeds, and shook a handful into each of
Toinette's shoes, as they stood, toes together by the
bedside.

"Now you have your wish," he said, and can go
about and do what you like, no one seeing. The charm
will end at sunset. Make the most of it while you can;
but if you want to end it sooner, shake the seeds from
the shoes and then you are just as usual. "

"Oh, I shan't want to," protested Toinette; "I'm
sure I shan't. "

"Good-bye," said Thistle, with a mocking little
laugh.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 75

"Good-bye, and thank you ever so much," replied
Toinette.

"Good-bye, good-bye," replied the other elves, in
shrill chorus. They clustered together, as if in con-
sultation; then straight out of the window they flew like
a swarm of gauzy-winged bees, and melted into the
moonlight. Toinette jumped up and ran to watch
them but the little men were gone — not a trace of
them was to be seen; so she shut the window, went
back to bed and presently in the midst of her amazed
and excited thoughts fell asleep.

She waked in the morning, with a queer, doubtful
feeling. Had she dreamed, or had it really happened?
Sht put on her best petticoat and laced her blue bodice;
for she thought the mother would perhaps take them
across the wood to the little chapel for the Christmas
service. Her long hair smoothed and tied, her shoes
trimly fastened, downstairs she ran. The mother was
stirring porridge over the fire. Toinette went close to
her, but she did not move or turn her head.

"How late the children are," she said at last, lifting
the boiling pot on the hob. Then she went to the stair-
foot and called, "Marc, Jeanneton, Pierre, Marie.
Breakfast is ready, my children. Toinette — but
where, then, is Toinette? She is used to be down
long before this. "

"Toinette isn't upstairs," said Marie from above.
"Her door is wide open, and she isn't there. "

"That is strange," said the mother. "I have been

76 CHn.DREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

here an hour, and she has not passed this way since. "
She went to the outer door and called, "Toinette!
Toinette!" passing close to Toinette as she did so, and
looking straight at her with unseeing eyes. Toinette,
half frightened, half pleased, giggled low to herself.
She really was invisible, then. How strange it seemed
and what fun it was going to be.

The children sat down to breakfast, little Jeanneton,
as the youngest, saying grace. The mother distributed
the porridge and gave each a spoon but she looked
anxious.

"Where can Toinette have gone?" she said to
hersielf. Toinette was conscious-pricked. She was
half inclined to dispel the charm on the spot. But
just then she caught a whisper from Pierre to Marc
which so surprised her as to put the idea out of her head.

"Perhaps a wolf has eaten her up — a great big wolf
like the 'Capuchon Rouge,' you know." This was
what Pierre said; and Marc answered unfeelingly:

"If he has, I shall ask mother to let me have her
room for my own. "

Poor Toinette, her cheeks burned and her eyes filled
with tears at this. Didn't the boys love her a bit then?
Next she grew angry, and longed to box Marc's ears,
only she recollected in time that she was invisible.
What a bad boy he was, she thought.

The smoking porridge reminded her that she was
hungry; so brushing away the tears she slipped a spoon
off the table and whenever she found the chance, dipped

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 77

it into the bowl for a mouthful. The porridge dis-
appeared rapidly.

"I want some more," said Jeanneton.

" Bless me, how fast you have eaten, " said the mother,
turning to the bowl.

This made Toinette laugh, which shook her spoon,
and a drop of the hot mixture fell right on the tip of
Marie's nose as she sat with upturned face waiting
her turn for a second helping. Marie gave a little
scream.

" What is it? " said the mother.

" Hot water ! Right in my face ! ' ' sputtered Marie.

" Water ! " cried Marc. " It's porridge. "

*'You spattered with your spoon. Eat more care-
fully, my child, " said the mother, and Toinette laughed
again as she heard her. After all, there was some fim
in being invisible.

The morning went by. Constantly the mother went
to the door, and, shading her eyes with her hand,
looked out, in hopes of seeing a little figure come down
the wood-path, for she thought perhaps the child went
to the spring after water, and fell asleep there. The
children played happily, meanwhile. They were used
to doing without Toinette and did not seem to miss
her, except that now and then baby Jeanneton said:
"Poor Toinette gone — not here — all gone."

"Well, what if she has?" said Marc at last looking
up from the wooden cup he was carving for Marie's
doll. " We can play all the better. "

78 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Marc was a bold, outspoken boy, who always cold
his whole mind about things.

" If she were here, " he went on, "she'd only scold and
interfere. Toinette almost always scolds. I like to
have her go away. It makes it pleasanter. "

"It is rather pleasanter," admitted Marie, "only
I'd like her to be having a nice time somewhere else."

"Bother about Toinette," cried Pierre.

"Let's play 'My godmother has cabbage to sell.' "

I don't think Toinette had ever felt so unhappy in
her life, as when she stood by unseen, and heard the
children say these words. She had never meant to be
unkind to them, but she was quick-tempered, dreamy,
wrapped up in herself. She did not like being inter-
rupted by them, it put her out, and she spoke sharply
and was cross. She had taken it for granted that the
others must love her, by a sort of right, and the knowl-
edge that they did not grievec. ir very much. Creep-
ing away, she hid herself in the woods. It was a spark-
ling day, but the sun did not look so bright as usual.
Cuddled down under a rosebush, Toinette sat sobbing
as if her heart would break at the recollection of the
speeches she had overheard.

By and by a little voice within her woke up and be-
gan to make itself audible. All of us know this little
voice. We call it conscience.

"Jeanneton missed me," she thought. "And, oh,
dear! I pushed her away only last night and wouldn't
tell her a story. And Marie hoped I was having a

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 79

pleasant time somewhere. I wish I hadn't slapped
Marie last Friday. And I wish I hadn't thrown Marc's
ball into the fire that day I was angry with him. How
unkind he was to say that — but I wasn't always kind
to him. And once I said that I wished a bear would eat
Pierre up. That was because he broke my cup. Oh,
dear, oh, dear. What a bad girl I've been to them all. "

"But you could be better and kinder if you tried,
couldn't you?" said the inward voice. "I think you
could."

And Toinette clasped her hands tight and said out
loud: "I could. Yes — and I will. "

The first thing to be done was to get rid of the fern-
seed which she now regarded as a hateful thing. She
untied her shoes and shook it out in the grass. It
dropped and seemed to melt into the air, for it instantly
vanished. A mischievous laugh sounded close behind,
and a beetle-green coat-tail was visible whisking under
u, tuft of rushes. But Toinette had had enough of the
elves, and, tying her shoes, took the road toward home,
running with all her might.

"Where have you been all day, Toinette?" cried the
children, as, breathless and panting, she flew in at the
gate. But Toinette could not speak. She made slowly
for her mother, who stood in the doorway, flung herself
into her arms and burst into a passion of tears.

"Ma cherie, what is it, whence hast thou come?"
asked the good mother alarmed. She lifted Toinette
into her arms as she spoke, and hastened indoors.

8o CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

The other children followed, whispering and peeping,
but the mother sent them away, and sitting down by
the fire with Toinette in her lap, she rocked and hushed
and comforted, as though Toinette had been again a
little baby. Gradually the sobs ceased. For a while
Toinette lay quiet, with her head on her mother's
breast. Then she wiped her wet eyes, put her arms
around her mother's neck, and told her all from the
very beginning, keeping not a smgle thing back. The
dame listened with alarm.

"Saints protect us," she muttered. Then feeling
Toinette's hands and head, "Thou hast a fever," she
said. "I will make thee a tisane, my darling, and thou
must at once go to bed." Toinette vainly protested;
to bed she went and perhaps it was the wisest thing, for
the warm drink threw her into a long sound sleep and
when she woke she was herself again, bright and well,
hungry for dinner, and ready to do her usual tasks.

Herself — but not quite the same Toinette that she
had been before. Nobody changes from bad to better
in a minute. It takes time for that, time and effort,
and a long struggle with evil habits and tempers. But
there is sometimes a certain minute or day in which
people begin to change, and thus it was with Toinette.
The fairy lesson was not lost upon her. She began to
fight with herself, to watch her faults and try to conquer
them. It was hard work; often she felt discouraged,
but she kept on. Week after week and month after
month she grew less selfish, kinder, more obliging than

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 8i

she used to be. When she failed and her old fractious
temper got the better of her, she was sorry and begged
every one's pardon so humbly that they could not but
forgive. The mother began to think that the elves
really had bewitched her child. As for the children they
learned to love Toinette as never before, and came to
her with all their pains and pleasures, as children should
to a kind older sister. Each fresh proof of this, every
kiss from Jeanneton, every confidence from Marc, was
a comfort to Toinette, for she never forgot Christmas
Day, and felt that no trouble was too much to wipe out
that unhappy recollection. "I think they like me
better than they did then, " she would say; but then the
thought came, "Perhaps if I were invisible again, if
they did not know I was there, I might hear something
to make me feel as badly as I did that morning."
These sad thoughts were part of the bitter fruit of the
fairy fern-seed.

So with doubts and fears the year went by, and again
it was Christmas Eve. Toinette had been asleep some
hours when she was roused by a sharp tapping at the
window pane. Startled, and only half awake, she sat
up in bed and saw by the moonlight a tiny figure out-
side which she recognized. It was Thistle drumming
with his knuckles on the glass.

"Let me in, " cried the dry little voice. So Toinette
opened the casement, and Thistle flew in and perched
as before on the coverlet.

"Merry Christmas, my girL" he said, "and a Happy

82 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

New Year when it comes. I've brought you a present ;"
and, dipping into a pouch tied round his waist, he
pulled out a handful of something brown. Toinette
knew what it was in a moment.

"Oh, no," she cried shrinking back. "Don't give
me any fern-seeds. They frighten me. I don't like
them. "

"Don't be silly," said Thistle, his voice sounding
kind this fime, and earnest. " It wasn't pleasant being
invisible last year, but perhaps this year it will be.
Take my advice, and try it. You'll not be sorry."

" Sha'n't I? " said Toinette, brightening. "Very well,
then, I will." She leaned out of bed, and watched
Thistle strew the fine dustlike grains in each shoe.

"I'll drop in to-morrow night, and just see how you
like it, " he said. Then, with a nod, he was gone.

The old fear came back when she woke in the mom-
ing, and she tied on her shoes with a tremble at her
heart. Downstairs she stole. The first thing she
saw was a wooden ship standing on her plate. Marc
had made the ship, but Toinette had no idea it was for
her.

The little ones sat round the table with their eyes on
the door, watching till Toinette should come in and be
surprised.

"I wish she'd hurry," said Pierre, drumming on his
bowl with a spoon.

"We all want Toinette, don't we?" said the mother,
smiling as she poured the hot porridge.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 83

"It \viU be fun to see her stare," declared Marc.
•'Toinette is jolly when she stares. Her eyes look big
and her cheeks grow pink. Andre Brugen thinks his
sister Aline is prettiest, but I don't. Our Toinette is
ever so pretty. "

"She is ever so nice, too," said Pierre. "She's as
good to play with as — as — a boy," finished trium-
phantly.

"Oh, I wish my Toinette would come," said Jeanne-
ton.

Toinette waited no longer, but sped upstairs with
glad tears in her eyes. Two minutes, and down she
came again visible this time. Her heart was light as a
feather.

"Merry Christmas!" clamoured the children. The
ship was presented, Toinette was duly surprised, and so
the happy day began.

That night Toinette left the window open, and lay
down in her clothes; for she felt, as Thistle had been so
kind, she ought to receive him politely. He came at
midnight, and with him all the other little men in
green.

"Well, how was it?" asked Thistle.

"Oh, I liked it this time," declared Toinette, with
shining eyes, and I thank you so much. "

"I'm glad you did," said the elf. "And I'm glad
you are thankful, for we want you to do something
for us. "

"What can it be?" inquired Toinette, wondering.

84 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"You must know," went on Thistle, "that there is
no dainty in the world which we elves enjoy like a bowl
of fern-seed broth. But it has to be cooked over a
real fire, and we dare not go near fire, you know, lest
our wings scorch. So we seldom get any fern-seed
broth. Now, Toinette, will you make us some? "

"Indeed, I will!" cried Toinette, "only you must
tell me how."

"It is very simple," said Peascod; "only seed and
honey dew, stirred from left to right with a sprig of
fennel. Here's the seed and the fennel, and here's the
dew. Be sure and stir from the left; if you don't, it
curdles, and the flavour will be spoiled. "

Down into the kitchen they went, and Toinette,
moving very softly, quickened the fire, set on the
smallest bowl she could find, and spread the doll's
table with the wooden saucers which Marc had made
for Jeanneton to play with. Then she mixed and
stirred as the elves bade, and when the soup was done,
served it to them smoking hot. How they feasted!
No bumblebee, dipping into a flower-cup, ever sipped
and twinkled more rapturously than they.

When the last drop was eaten, they made ready to
go. Each in turn kissed Toinette's hand, and said a
word of farewell. Thistle brushed his feathered cap
over the doorpost as he passed,

"Be lucky, house," he said, "for you have received
and entertained the luck-bringers. And be lucky,
Tomette. Good temper is good luck, and sweet words

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 85

and kind looks and peace in the heart are the fairest of
fortunes. See that you never lose them again, my girl."
With this, he, too, kissed Toinette's hand, waved his
feathered cap, and — whir! they all were gone, while
Toinette, covering the fire with ashes and putting aside
the little cups, stole up to her bed a happy child.

rx

THE VOYAGE OF THE WEE RED CAP

RDIH SAWYER DURAND

IT WAS the night of St. Stephen, and Teig sat alone
by his fire with naught in his cupboard but a
pinch of tea and a bare mixing of meal, and a heart
inside of him as soft and warm as the ice on the water-
bucket outside the door. The tuft was near burnt on
the hearth — a handful of golden cinders left, just;
and Teig took to counting them greedily on his fingers.

"There's one, two, three, an' four an' five," he
laughed. "Faith, there be more bits o' real gold hid
undther the loose clay in the corner. "

It was the truth; and it was the scraping and scrooch-
ing for the last piece that had left Teig's cupboard bare
of a Christmas dinner.

"Gold is betther nor eatin' an' dthrinkin'. An' if
ye have naught to give, there'll be naught asked of ye;"
and he laughed again.

He was thinking of the neighbours, and the doles of
food and piggins of milk that would pass over their
thresholds that night to the vagabonds and paupers

*Published originally in the Outlook. Reprinted here by arrangement
with the author.

86

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 87

who were sure to come begging. And on the heels of
that thought followed another: who would be giving
old Barney his dinner? Barney lived a stone's throw
from Teig, alone, in a wee tumbled-in cabin; and for a
score of years past Teig had stood on the doorstep every
Christmas Eve, and, making a hollow of his two hands,
had called across the road :

"Hey, there, Barney, will ye come over for a sup?"
And Barney had reached for his crutches — there being
but one leg to him — and had come.

"Faith," said Teig, trying another laugh, "Barney
can fast for the once; 'twill be all the same in a month's
time. " And he fell to thinking of the gold again.

A knock came at the door. Teig pulled himself
down in his chair where the shadow would cover him,
and held his tongue.

"Teig, Teig!" It was the widow O'Donnelly's
voice. "If ye are there, open your door. I have not
got the pay for the spriggin' this month, an' the chil-
dher are needin' food. "

But Teig put the leash on his tongue, and never
stirred till he heard the tramp of her feet going on to the
next cabin. Then he saw to it that the door was tight-
barred. Another knock came, and it was a stranger's
voice this time :

"The other cabins are filled; not one but has its
hearth crowded; will ye take us in — the two of us?
The wind bites mortal sharp, not a morsel o' food have
we tasted this day. Masther, will ye take us in? "

88 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

But Teig sat on, a-holding his tongue; and the tramp
of the strangers' feet passed down the road. Others
took their place — small feet, running. It was the
miller's wee Cassie, and she called out as she ran by:

"Old Barney's watchin' for ye. Ye'U not be for-
gettin' him, will ye, Teig?"

And then the child broke into a song, sweet and clear,
as she passed down the road:

"Listen all ye, 'tis the Feast o' St. Stephen,
Mind that ye keep it, this holy even.
Open your door an' greet ye the stranger —
For ye mind that the wee Lord had naught but a manger.

Mhuire as truaghl

"Feed ye the hungry an' rest ye the weary,
This ye must do for the sake of Our Mary.
'Tis well that ye mind — ye who sit by the fire —
That the Lord he was born in a dark and cold byre.

Mhuire as truagh!'*

Teig put his fingers deep in his ears. "A million
murdthering curses on them that won't let me be!
Can't a man try to keep what is his without bein'
pesthered by them that has only idled an' wasted
their days?"

And then the strange thing happened: hundreds and
hundreds of wee lights began dancing outside the
window, making the room bright ; the hands of the clock"
began chafing each other round the dial, and the bolt
of the door drew itself out. Slowly, without a creak

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 89

or a cringe, the door opened, and in there trooped a
crowd of the Good People. Their wee green cloaks
were folded close about them, and each carried a
rush candle.

Teig was filled with a great wonderment, entirely,
when he saw the fairies, but when they saw him they
laughed.

"We are takin' the loan o' your cabin this night,
Teig," said they. "Ye are the only man hereabout
with an empty hearth, an' we're needin' one. "

Without saying more, they bustled about the room
making ready. They lengthened out the table and
spread and set it; more of the Good People trooped in,
bringing stools and food and drink. The pipers came
last, and they sat themselves around the chimney-piece
a-blowing their chanters and trying the drones. The
feasting began and the pipers played and never had Teig
seen such a sight in his life. Suddenly a wee man sang
out:

" Clip, clap, clip, clap, I wish I had my wee red cap! "
And out of the air there tumbled the neatest cap Teig
ever laid his two eyes on. The wee man clapped it on
his head, crying:

"I wish I was in Spain!" and — whist — up the
chimney he went, and away out of sight.

It happened just as I am telling it. Another wee
man called for his cap, and away he went after the first.
And then another and another until the room was
empty and Teig sat alone again.

90 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"By my soul," said Teig, "I'd like to thravel that
way myself! It's a grand savin' of tickets an' baggage;
an' ye get to a place before ye've had time to change
your mind. Faith there is no harm done if I thry it. "

So he sang the fairies' rhyme and out of the air
dropped a wee cap for him. For a moment the wonder
had him, but the next he was clapping the cap on his
head and crying:

"Spam!"

Then — whist — up the chimney he went after the
fairies, and before he had time to let out his breath he
was standing in the middle of Spain, and strangeness
all about him.

He was in a great city. The doorways of the houses
were hung with flowers and the air was warm and sweet
with the smell of them. Torches burned along the
streets, sweetmeat-sellers went about crying their
wares, and on the steps of the cathedral crouched a
crowd of beggars.

"What's the meanin' o' that?" asked Teig of one
of the fairies.

"They are waiting for those that are hearing mass.
When they come out, they give half of what they have
to those that have nothing, so on this night of all the
year there shall be no hunger and no cold. "

And then far down the street came the sound of a
child's voice, singing:

"Listen all ye, 'tis the Feast o' St. Stephen,
Mind that ye keep it, this holy even".

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 91

"Curse it!" said Teig; "can a song fly afther ye?"
And then he heard the fairies cry "Holland!" and
cried "HoUand!" too.

In one leap he was over France, and another over
Belgium; and with the third he was standing by long
ditches of water frozen fast, and over them glided
hundreds upon hundreds of lads and maids. Outside
each door stood a wee wooden shoe empty. Teig
saw scores of them as he looked down the ditch of a
street.

"What is the meanin' o' those shoes?" he asked the
fairies.

"Ye poor lad!" answered the wee man next to
him; "are ye not knowing anything? This is the Gift
Night of the year, when every man gives to his neigh-
bour. "

A child came to the window of one of the houses, and
in her hand was a lighted candle. She was singing as
she put the light down close to the glass, and Teig
caught the words :

"Open your door an' greet ye the stranger —
For ye mind that the wee Lord had naught but a manger,

Mhuire as truagh ! "

"'Tis the de'il's work!" cried Teig, and he set the red
cap more firmly on his head.

"I'm for another country."

I cannot be telling you a half of the adventures Teig
had that night, nor half the sights that he saw. But

92 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

he passed by fields that held sheaves of grain for the
birds and doorsteps that held bowls of porridge for the
wee creatures. He saw lighted trees, sparkling and
heavy with gifts; and he stood outside the churches and
watched the crowds pass in, bearing gifts to the Holy
Mother and Child.

At last the fairies straightened their caps and cried,
"Now for the great hall in the King of England's
palace!"

Whist — and away they went, and Teig after them;
and the first thing he knew he was in London, not an
arm's length from the King's throne. It was a grander
sight than he had seen in any other country. The hall
was filled entirely with lords and ladies; and the great
doors were open for the poor and the homeless to come
in and warm themselves by the King's fire and feast
from the King's table. And many a hungry soul did
the King serve with his own hands.

Those that had anything to give gave it in return.
It might be a bit of music played on a harp or a pipe, or
it might be a dance or a song; but more often it was a
wish, just, for good luck and safekeeping.

Teig was so taken up with the watching that he
never heard the fairies when they wished themselves
off; moreover, he never saw the wee girl that was fed,
and went laughing away. But he heard a bit of her
song as she passed through the door :

"Feed ye the hungry an' rest ye the weary,
This ye must do for the sake of Our Mary."

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 93

Then the anger had Teig. " I'll stop your pestherin'
tongue, once an' for all time!" and, catching the cap
from his head, he threw it after her.

No sooner was the cap gone than every soul in the
hall saw him. The next moment they were about him,
catching at his coat and crying:

''Where is he from, what does he here? Bring
him before the King!" And Teig was dragged
along by a hundred hands to the throne where the
King sat.

"He was stealing food," cried one.

"He was robbing the King's jewels," cried another.

" He looks evil, " cried a third. " Kill him ! "

And in a moment all the voices took it up and the hall
rang with : " Aye, kill him, kill him ! "

Teig's legs took to trembling, and fear put the leash
on his tongue; but after a long silence he managed to
whisper:

"I have done evil to no one — no one! "

"Maybe," said the King; "but have ye done good?
Come, tell us, have ye given aught to any one this night?
If ye have, we will pardon ye. "

Not a word could Teig say — fear tightened the leash
— for he was knowing full well there was no good to
him that night.

"Then ye must die," said the King. "Will ye try
hanging or beheading?"

"Hanging, please, your Majesty," said Teig.

The guards came rushing up and carried him off.

94 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

But as he was crossing the threshold of the hall a
thought sprang at hun and held him.

"Your Majesty," he called after him, "will ye grant
me a last request? "

"I will," said the King.

"Thank ye. There's a wee red cap that I'm mortal
fond of, and I lost it a while ago; if I could be hung
with it on, I would hang a deal more comfortable. "

The cap was found and brought to Teig.

"Clip, clap, clip, clap, for my wee red cap, I wish I
was home," he sang.

Up and over the heads of the dmnfounded guard he
flew, and — whist — and away out of sight. When he
opened his eyes again, he was sitting close by his own
hearth, with the fire burnt low. The hands of the
clock were still, the bolt was fixed firm in the door.
The fairies' lights were gone, and the only bright thing
was the candle burning in old Barney's cabin across the
road.

A running of feet sounded outside, and then the
snatch of a song:

"'Tis well that ye mind — ye who sit by the fire —
That the Lord he was born in a dark and cold byre.

Mhuire as truaghl"

"Wait ye, whoever ye are!" and Teig was away to
the corner, digging fast at the loose clay, as a terrier
digs at a bone. He filled his hands full of the shining
gold, then hurried to the door, unbarring it.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 95

The miller's wee Cassie stood there, peering at him
out of the darkness.

"Take those to the widow 0 'Donnelly, do ye hear?
And take the rest to the store. Ye tell Jamie to bring
up all that he has that is eatable an' dhrinkable; and to
the neighbours ye say, 'Teig's keepin' the feast this
night . ' Hurry now ! "

Teig stopped a moment on the threshold until the
tramp of her feet had died away; then he made a
hollow of his two hands and called across the road :

"Hey there, Barney, will ye come over for a sup?"

A STORY OF THE CHRIST-CHILD*

A German legend for Christmas Eve as told by

ELIZABETH HARRISON

ONCE upon a time, a long, long time ago, on the
night before Christmas, a little child was wander-
ing all alone through the streets of a great city. There
were many people on the street, fathers and mothers,
sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts, and even gray-
haired grandfathers and grandmothers, all of whom
were hurrying home with bundles of presents for each
other and for their little ones. Fine carriages rolled
by, express wagons rattled past, even old carts were
pressed into service, and all things seemed in a hurry
and glad with expectation of the coming Christmas
morning.

From some of the windows bright lights were already
beginning to stream until it was almost as bright as day.
But the little child seemed to have no home, and wan-
dered about listlessly from street to street. No one
took any notice of him except perhaps Jack Frost, who
bit his bare toes and made the ends of his fingers tingle.
The north wind, too, seemed to notice the child, for it

*Reprinted by permission of the author from her collection, "Christmas
tide," published by the Chicago Kindergarten College.

j)6

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 97

blew against him and pierced his ragged garments
through and through, causing him to shiver with cold.
Home after home he passed, looking with longing eyes
through the windows, in upon the glad, happy children,
most of whom were helping to trim the Christmas trees
for the coming morrow.

"Surely," said the child to himself, "where there is
so must gladness and happiness, some of it may be for
me. " So with timid steps he approached a large and
handsome house. Through the windows, he could see
a tall and stately Christmas tree already lighted.
Many presents hung upon it. Its green boughs were
trimmed with gold and silver ornaments. Slowly he
climbed up the broad steps and gently rapped at the
door. It was opened by a large man-servant. He had
a kindly face, although his voice was deep and gruff.
He looked at the little child for a moment, then sadly
shook his head and said, "Go down off the steps.
There is no room here for such as you." He looked
sorry as he spoke; possibly he remembered his own
little ones at home, and was glad that they were not
out in this cold and bitter night. Through the open
door a bright light shone, and the warm air, filled with
fragrance of the Christmas pine, rushed out from the
inner room and greeted the little wanderer with a kiss.
As the child turned back into the cold and darkness, he
wondered why the footman had spoken thus, for surely,
thought he, those little children would love to have
another companion join them in their joyous Christmas

98 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

festival. But the little children inside did not even
know that he had knocked at the door.

The street grew colder and darker as the child passed
on. He went sadly forward, saying to himself, "Is
there no one in all this great city who will share the
Christmas with me?" Farther and farther down the
street he wandered, to where the homes were not so
large and beautiful. There seemed to be little children
inside of nearly all the houses. They were dancing
and frolicking about. Christmas trees could be seen
in nearly every window, with beautiful dolls and
trumpets and picture-books and balls and tops and
other dainty toys hung upon them. In one window
the child noticed a little lamb made of soft white wool.
Around its neck was tied a red ribbon. It had evidently
been hung on the tree for one of the children. The
little stranger stopped before this window and looked
long and earnestly at the beautiful things inside, but
most of all was he drawn toward the white lamb.
At last creeping up to the window-pane, he gently
tapped upon it. A little girl came to the window and
looked out into the dark street where the snow had now
begun to fall. She saw the child, but she only frowned
and shook her head and said, " Go away and come some
other time. We are too busy to take care of you now. "
Back into the dark, cold streets he turned again. The
wind was whirling past him and seemed to say, "Hurry
on, hurry on, we have no time to stop. 'Tis Christmas
Eve and everybody is in a hurry to-night. "

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 99

Again and again the little child rapped softly at door
or window-pane. At each place he was refused admis-
sion. One mother feared he might have some ugly-
disease which her darlings would catch; another father
said he had only enough for his own children and none
to spare for beggars. Still another told him to go home
where he belonged, and not to trouble other folks.

The hours passed; later grew the night, and colder
grew the wind, and darker seemed the street. Farther
and farther the little one wandered. There was
scarcely any one left upon the street by this time, and
the few who remained did not seem to see the child,
when suddenly ahead of him there appeared a bright,
single ray of light. It shone through the darkness into
the child's eyes. He looked up smilingly and said, "I
will go where the small light beckons, perhaps they will
share their Christmas with me. "

Hurrying past all the other houses, he soon reached
the end of the street and went straight up to the win-
dow from which the light was streaming. It was a
poor, little, low house, but the child cared not for that.
The light seemed still to call him in. From what do
you suppose the light came? Nothing but a tallow
candle which had been placed in an old cup with a
broken handle, in the window, as a glad token of Christ-
mas Eve. There was neither curtain nor shade to the
small, square window and as the little child looked in
he saw standing upon a neat wooden table a branch of
a Christmas tree. The room was plainly furnishedj

lOO CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

but it was very clean. Near the fireplace sat a lovely
faced mother with a little two-year-old on her knee and
an older child beside her. The two children were look-
ing into their mother's face and listening to a story.
She must have been telling them a Christmas story,
I think. A few bright coals were burning in the fire-
place, and all seemed light and warm within.

The little wanderer crept closer and closer to the
window-pane. So sweet was the mother's face, so
loving seemed the little children, that at last he took
courage and tapped gently, very gently on the door.
The mother stopped talking, the little children looked
up. "What was that, mother?" asked the little girl
at her side. " I think it was some one tapping on the
door," replied the mother. "Run as quickly as you
can and open it, dear, for it is a bitter cold night to keep
any one waiting in this storm." "Oh, mother, I
think it was the bough of the tree tapping against the
window-pane," said the little girl. "Do please go on
with our story." Again the little wanderer tapped
upon the door. "My child, my child," exclaimed the
mother, rising, "that certainly was a rap on the door.
Run quickly and open it. No one must be left out in
the cold on our beautiful Christmas Eve. "

The child ran to the door and threw it wide open.
The mother saw the ragged stranger standing without,
cold and shivering, with bare head and almost bare
feet. She held out both hands and drew him into the
warm, bright room. "You poor, dear child," was all

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES loi

she said, and putting her arms around him, she drew
him close to her breast. "He is very cold, my chil-
dren," she exclaimed. "We must warm him." "And,"
added the little girl, "we must love him and give him
some of our Christmas, too. " "Yes, " said the mother,
"but first let us warm him. "

The mother sat down by the fire with the little
child on her lap, and her own little ones warmed his
half-frozen hands in theirs. The mother smoothed his
tangled curls, and, bending low over his head, kissed
the child's face. She gathered the three Httle ones in her
arms and the candle and the fire light shone over them.
For a moment the room was very still. By and by the
little girl said softly, to her mother, "May we not light
the Christmas tree, and let him see how beautiful it
looks?" "Yes," said the mother. With that she
seated the child on a low stool beside the fire, and went
herself to fetch the few simple ornaments which from
year to year she had saved for her children's Christ-
mas tree. They were soon so busy that they did not
notice the room had filled with a strange and brilliant
light. They turned and looked at the spot where the
little wanderer sat. His ragged clothes had changed
to garments white and beautiful; his tangled curls
seemed like a halo of golden light about his head; but
most glorious of all was his face, which shone with a
light so dazzling that they could scarcely look upon it.

In silent wonder they gazed at the child. Their
little room seemed to grow larger and larger, until it

102 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

was as wide as the whole world, the roof of their low
house seemed to expand and rise, until it reached to
the sky.

With a sweet and gentle smile the wonderful child
looked upon them for a moment, and then slowly rose
and floated through the air, above the treetops, beyond
the church spire, higher even than the clouds them-
selves, until he appeared to them to be a shining star
in the sky above. At last he disappeared from sight.
The astonished children turned in hushed awe to their
mother, and said in a whisper, "Oh, mother, it was
the Christ-Child, was it not?" And the mother
answered in a low tone, "Yes. "

And it is said, dear children, that each Christmas
Eve the little Christ-Child wanders through some
town or village, and those who receive him and take
him into their homes and hearts have given to them
this marvellous vision which is denied to others.

XI
JIMMY SCARECROW'S CHRISTMAS

MARY E. WILKINS FREEMAN

JIMMY SCARECROW led a sad life in the winter.
Jimmy's greatest grief was his lack of occupation.
He liked to be useful, and in winter he was absolutely
of no use at all.

He wondered how many such miserable winters he
would have to endure. He was a young Scarecrow,
and this was his first one. He was strongly made, and
although his wooden joints creaked a little when the
wind blew he did not grow in the least rickety. Every
morning, when the wintry sun peered like a hard yellow
eye across the dry corn-stubble, Jimmy felt sad, but at
Christmas time his heart nearly broke.

On Christmas Eve Santa Claus came in his sledge
heaped high with presents, urging his team of reindeer
across the field. He was on his way to the farmhouse
where Betsey lived with her Aunt Hannah.

Betsey was a very good little girl with very smooth
yellow curls, and she had a great many presents.
Santa Claus had a large wax doll-baby for her on his
arm, tucked up against the fur collar of his coat. He
was afraid to trust it in the pack, lest it get broken.

X03

I04 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

When poor Jimmy Scarecrow saw Santa Claus his
heart gave a great leap. " Santa Claus! Here I am!"
he cried out, but Santa Claus did not hear him.

" Santa Claus, please give me a little present. I was
good all summer and kept the crows out of the corn,"
pleaded the poor Scarecrow in his choking voice, but
Santa Claus passed by with a merry halloo and a great
clamour of bells.

Then Jimmy Scarecrow stood in the corn-stubble
and shook with sobs until his joints creaked. "I am
of no use in the world, and everybody has forgotten
me, " he moaned. But he was mistaken.

The next morning Betsey sat at the window holding
her Christmas doll-baby, and she looked out at Jimmy
Scarecrow standing alone in the field amidst the corn-
stubble.

"Aunt Hannah?" said she. Aunt Hannah was
making a crazy patchwork quilt, and she frowned hard
at a triangular piece of red silk and circular piece of
pink, wondering how to fit them together. "Well?"
said she.

"Did Santa Claus bring the Scarecrow any Christ-
mas present?"

"No, of course he didn't."

"Why not?"

"Because he's a Scarecrow. Don't ask silly ques-
tions."

"I wouldn't like to be treiated so, if I was a Scare-
crow," said Betsey, but her Aunt Hannah did not bear

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 105

her. She was busy cutting a triangular snip out of the
round piece of pink silk so the piece of red silk could be
feather-stitched into it.

It was ^snowing hard out of doors, and the north wind
blew. The Scarecrow's poor old coat got whiter and
whiter with snow. Sometimes he almost vanished in
the thick white storm. Aunt Hannah worked until the
middle of the afternoon on her crazy quilt. Then she
got up and spread it out over the sofa with an air
of pride.

"There," said she, "that's done, and that makes
the eighth. I've got one for every bed in the house,
and I've given four away. I'd give this away if I
knew of anybody that wanted it. "

Aunt Hannah put on her hood and shawl, and drew
some blue yarn stockings on over her shoes, and set out
through the snow to carry a slice of plum-pudding to her
sister Susan, who lived down the road. Half an hour
after Aunt Hannah had gone Betsey put her little red
plaid shawl over her head, and ran across the field to
Jimmy Scarecrow. She carried her new doll-baby
smuggled up under her shawl.

"Wish you Merry Christmas!" she said to Jimmy
Scarecrow.

"Wish you the same," said Jimmy, but his voice
was choked with sobs, and was also muffled, for his old
hat had slipped down to his chin. Betsey looked
pitifully at the old hat fringed with icicles, like frozen
tears, and the old snow-laden coat. "I've brought

io6 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

you a Christmas present," said she, and with that she
tucked her doll-baby inside Jimmy Scarecrow's coat,
sticking its tiny feet into a pocket.

"Thank you," said Jimmy Scarecrow faintly.

' ' You 're welcome , ' ' said she . "Keep her under your
overcoat, so the snow won't wet her, and she won't
catch cold, she's delicate."

"Yes, I will," said Jimmy Scarecrow, and he tried
hard to bring one of his stiff, outstretched arms around
to clasp the doll-baby.

"Don't you feel cold in that old summer coat?"
asked Betsey.

"If I had a little exercise, I should be warm," he
replied. But he shivered, and the wind whistled
through his rags.

"You wait a minute," said Betsey, and wiitS off
across the field.

Jimmy Scarecrow stood in the corn-stubble, with the
doll-baby under his coat, and waited, and soon Betsey
was back again with Aunt Hannah's crazy quilt trailing
in the snow behind her.

"Here," said she, "here is something to keep you
warm," and she folded the crazy quilt around the
Scarecrow and pinned it.

"Aunt Hannah wants to give it away if anybody
wants it," she explained. "She's got so many crazy
quilts in the house now she doesn't know what to do
with them. Good-bye — be sure you keep the doll-
baby covered up. " And with that she ran across the

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 107

field, and left Jimmy Scarecrow alone with the crazy
quilt and the doll-baby.

The bright flash of colours under Jimmy's hat-brim
dazzled his eyes, and he felt a little alarmed. " I hope
this quilt is harmless if it is crazy," he said. But the
quilt was warm, and he dismissed his fears. Soon the
doll-baby whimpered, but he creaked his joints a little,
and that amused it, and he heard it cooing inside his
coat.

Jimmy Scarecrow had never felt so happy in his
life as he did for an hour or so. But after that the
snow began to turn to rain, and the crazy quilt was
soaked through and through: and not only that, but
his coat and the poor doll-baby. It cried pitifully for
a while, and then it was still, and he was afraid it was
dead.

It grew very dark, and the rain fell in sheets, the
snow melted, and Jimmy Scarecrow stood halfway up
his old boots in water. He was saying to himself that
the saddest hour of his life had come, when suddenly
he again heard Santa Glaus' sleigh-bells and his merry
voice talking to his reindeer. It was after midnight,
Christmas was over, and Santa was hastening home to
the North Pole.

"Santa Claus! dear Santa Claus!" cried Jimmy
Scarecrow with a great sob, and that time Santa Claus
heard him and drew rein.

"Who's there?" he shouted out of the darkness.

"It's only me," replied the Scarecrow.

io8 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"Who's me?" shouted Santa Claus.

"Jimmy Scarecrow!"

Santa got out of his sledge and waded up. "Have
you been standing here ever since corn was ripe?"
he asked pityingly, and Jimmy replied that he
had.

"What's that over your shoulders?" Santa Claus
continued, holding up his lantern.

" It's a crazy quilt. "

"And what are you holding under your coat? "

"The doll-baby that Betsey gave me, and I'm afraid
it's dead," poor Jimmy Scarecrow sobbed.

"Nonsense!" cried Santa Claus. "Let me see it!"
And with that he puUed the doll-baby out from under
the Scarecrow's coat, and patted its back, and shook
it a little, and it began to cry, and then to crow. " It's
all right," said Santa Claus. "This is the doll-baby I
gave Betsey, and it is not at all delicate. It went
through the measles, and the chicken-pox, and the
mumps, and the whooping-cough, before it left the
North Pole. Now get into the sledge, Jimmy Scare-
crow, and bring the doll-baby and the crazy quilt. I
have never had any quilts that weren't in their right
minds at the North Pole, but maybe I can cure this
one. Get in!" Santa chirruped to his reindeer,
and they drew the sledge up close in a beautiful
curve.

" Get in, Jimmy Scarecrow, and come with me to the
North Pole!" he cried.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 109

"Please, how long shall I stay?" asked Jimmy
Scarecrow.

"Why, you are going to live with me," replied Santa
Glaus. "I've been looking for a person like you for a
long time."

"Are there any crows to scare away at the North
Pole? I want to be useful," Jimmy Scarecrow said,
anxiously.

"No," answered Santa Glaus, "but I don't want
you to scare away crows. I want you to scare away
Arctic Explorers. I can keep you in work for a thou-
sand years, and scaring away Arctic Explorers from the
North Pole is much more important than scaring away
crows from corn. Why, if they found the Pole, there
wouldn't be a piece an inch long left in a week's time,
and the earth would cave in like an apple without a
core! They would whittle it all to pieces, and carry it
away in their pockets for souvenirs. Gome along; I
am in a hurry. "

"I will go on two conditions," said Jimmy. "First,
I want to make a present to Aunt Hannah and Betsey,
next Christmas. "

"You shaU make them any present you choose.
What else?"

"I want some way provided to scare the crows out
of the corn next summer, while I am away," said
Jimmy.

"That is easily managed," said Santa Glaus. "Just
wait a minute."

no CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Santa took his stylographic pen out of his pocket,
went with his lantern close to one of the fence-posts,
and wrote these words upon it:

NOTICE TO CROWS

Whichever crow shall hereafter hop, fly, or flop into this field
during the absence of Jimmy Scarecrow, and therefrom purloin,
steal, or abstract corn, shall be instantly, in a twinkling and a
trice, turned snow-white, and be ever after a disgrace, a by-
word and a reproach to his whole race.

Per order of Santa Claus.

"The corn will be safe now," said Santa Claus,
"get in." Jimmy got into the sledge and they flew
away over the fields, out of sight, with merry halloos
and a great clamour of bells.

The next morning there was much surprise at the
farmhouse, when Aunt Hannah and Betsey looked out
of the window and the Scarecrow was not in the field
holding out his stiff arms over the corn stubble. Bet-
sey had told Aunt Hannah she had given away the
crazy quilt and the doll-baby, but had been scolded
very little.

"You must not give away anything of yours again
without asking permission," said Aunt Hannah.
" And you have no right to give anything of mine, even
if you know I don't want it. Now both my pretty
quilt and your beautiful doll-baby are spoiled. "

That was all Aunt Hannah had said. She thought

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES in

she would send John after the quilt and the doll-baby
next morning as soon as it was light.

But Jimmy Scarecrow was gone, and the crazy quilt
and the doll-baby with him. John, the servant-man,
searched everywhere, but not a trace of them could he
find. "They must have all blown away, mum," he
said to Aunt Hannah.

"We shall have to have another scarecrow next
summer, " said she.

But the next summer there was no need of a scare-
crow, for not a crow came past the fence-post on which
Santa Glaus had written his notice to crows. The corn-
field was never so beautiful, and not a single grain was
stolen by a crow, and everybody wondered at it, for
they could not read the crow-language in which Santa
had written.

"It is a great mystery to me why the crows don't
come into our cornfield, when there is no scarecrow,"
said Aunt Hannah.

But she had a still greater mystery to solve when
Christmas came round again. Then she and Betsey
had each a strange present. They found them in the
sitting-room on Christmas morning. Aunt Hannah's
present was her old crazy quilt, remodelled, with every
piece cut square and true, and matched exactly to its
neighbour.

" Why, it's my old crazy quilt, but it isn't crazy now !"
cried Aunt Hannah, and her very spectacles seemed
to glisten with amazement.

112 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Betsey's present was her doll-baby of the Christmas
before; but the doll was a year older. She had grown
an inch, and could walk and say, "mamma," and "how
do?" She was changed a good deal, but Betsey knew
her at once. "It's my doll-baby!" she cried, and
snatched her up and kissed her.

But neither Aunt Hannah nor Betsey ever knew that
the quilt and the doll were Jimmy Scarecrow's Christ-
mas presents to them.

xn

WHY THE CHIMES RANG*

RAYMOND MCALDEN

THERE was once in a faraway country where few
people have ever travelled, a wonderful church.
It stood on a high hill in the midst of a great city; and
every Sunday, as well as on sacred days like Christmas,
thousands of people climbed the hill to its great arch-
ways, looking like lines of ants all moving in the same
direction.

When you came to the building itself, you found
stone columns and dark passages, and a grand entrance
leading to the main room of the church. This room
was so long that one standing at the doorway could
scarcely see to the other end, where the choir stood
by the marble altar. In the farthest comer was the
organ; and this organ was so loud, that sometimes
when it played, the people for mil^^.s around would close
their shutters and prepare for d great thunderstorm.
Altogether, no such church as this was ever seen before,
especially when it was lighted up for some festival,
and crowded with people, young and old. But the

*Copyright, 1906. Used by special permission of the publishers, the
Bobbs-Merrill Company.

113

114 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

strangest thing about the whole building was the won-
derful chime of bells.

At one corner of the church was a great gray tower,
with ivy growing over it as far up as one could see.
I say as far as one could see, because the tower was
quite great enough to fit the great church, and it rose
so far into the sky that it was only in very fair weather
that any one claimed to be able to see the top. Even
then one could not be certain that it was in sight. Up,
and up, and up climbed the stones and the ivy; and as
the men who built the church, had been dead for hun-
dreds of years, every one had forgotten how high the
tower was supposed to be.

Now aU the people knew that at the top of the tower
was a chime of Christmas bells. They had hung there
ever since the church had been built, and were the most
beautiful bells in the world. Some thought it was
because a great musician had cast them and arranged
them in their place; others said it was because of the
great height, which reached up where the air was
clearest and purest; however that might be no one who
had ever heard the chimes denied that they were the
sweetest in the world. Some described them as sound-
ing like angels far up in the sky; others as sounding
like strange winds singing through the trees.

But the fact was that no one had heard them for
years and years. There was an old man living not far
from the church who said that his mother had spoken
pf hearing them when she was a little girl, and he was

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 115

the only one who was sure of as much as that. They
were Christmas chimes, you see, and were not meant
to be played by men or on common days. It was the
custom on Christmas Eve for aU the people to bring
to the church their offerings to the Christ-Child; and
when the greatest and best offering was laid on the altar
there used to come sounding through the music of the
choir the Christmas chimes far up in the tower. Some
said that the wind rang them, and others, that they
were so high that the angels could set them swingings
But for many long years they had never been heard.
It was said that people had been growing less careful
of their gifts for the Christ-Child, and that no offering
was brought great enough to deserve the music of
the chimes.

Every Christmas Eve the rich people still crowded
to the altar, each one trying to bring some better gift
than any other, without giving anything that he wanted
for himself, and the church was crowded with those
who thought that perhaps the wonderful bells might
be heard again. But although the service was splendid,
and the offerings plenty, only the roar of the wind could
be heard, far up in the stone tower.

Now, a number of miles from the city, in a little
country village, where nothing could be seen of the great
church but glimpses of the tower when the weather
was fine, lived a boy named Pedro, and his little
brother. They knew very little about the Christmas
chimes, but they had heard of the service in the church

ii6 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

on Christmas Eve, and had a secret plan which they
had often talked over when by themselves, to go to see
the beautiful celebration.

"Nobody can guess, Little Brother," Pedro would
say; "all the fine things there are to see and hear; and I
have even heard it said that the Christ-Child some-
times comes down to bless the service. What if we
could see Him?"

The day before Christmas was bitterly cold, with a
few lonely snowflakes flying in the air, and a hard
white crust on the ground. Sure enough Pedro and
Little Brother were able to slip quietly away early in
the afternoon; and although the walking was hard in
the frosty air, before nightfall they had trudged so far,
hand in hand, that they saw the lights of the big city
just ahead of them. Indeed they were about to enter
one of the great gates in the wall that surrounded it,
when they saw something dark on the snow near their
path, and stepped aside to look at it.

It was a poor woman, who had fallen just outside the
city, too sick and tired to get in where she might have
found shelter. The soft snow made of a drift a sort
of pillow for her, and she would soon be so sound asleep,
in the wintry air, that no one could ever waken her
again. All this Pedro saw in a moment and he knelt
down beside her and tried to rouse her, even tugging
at her arm a little, as though he would have tried to
carry her away. He turned her face toward him, so
that he could rub some of the snow on it, and when he

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 117

had looked at her silently a moment he stood up again,
and said :

"It's no use, Little Brother. You will have to go
on alone. "

"Alone?" cried Little Brother. "And you not see
the Christmas festival?"

"No," said Pedro, and he could not keep back a bit
of a choking sound in his throat. "See this poor
woman. Her face looks like the Madonna in the
chapel window, and she will freeze to death if nobody
cares for her. Every one has gone to the church now,
but when you come back you can bring some one to
help her. I will rub her to keep her from freezing, and
perhaps get her to eat the bun that is left in my
pocket."

"But I cannot bear to leave you, and go on alone,"
said Little Brother.

"Both of us need not miss the service," said Pedro,
"and it had better be I than you. You can easily find
your way to church; and you must see and hear every-
thing twice. Little Brother — once for you and once
for me. I am sure the Christ-Child must know how I
should love to come with you and worship Him; and
oh! if you get a chance, Little Brother, to slip up to the
altar without getting in any one's way, take this little
silver piece of mine, and lay it down for my offering,
when no one is looking. Do not forget where you have
left me, and forgive me for not going with you. "

In this way he hurried Little Brother off to the city

ii8 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

and winked hard to keep back the tears, as he heard
the crunching footsteps sounding farther and farther
away in the twilight. It was pretty hard to lose the
music and splendour of the Christmas celebration that
he had been planning for so long, and spend the time
instead in that lonely place in the snow.

The great church was a wonderful place that night.
Every one said that it had never looked so bright and
beautiful before. When the organ played and the
thousands of people sang, the walls shook with the
sound, and little Pedro, away outside the city wall, felt
the earth tremble around him.

At the close of the service came the procession with
the offerings to be laid on the altar. Rich men and
great men marched proudly up to lay down their gifts
to the Christ-Child. Some brought wonderful jewels,
some baskets of gold so heavy that they could scarcely
carry them down the aisle. A great writer laid down
a book that he had been making for years and years.
And last of all walked the king of the country, hoping
with all the rest to win for himself the chime of the
Christmas beUs. There went a great murmur through
the church as the people saw the king take from his
head the royal crown, all set with precious stones, and
lay it gleaming on the altar, as his offering to the Holy
Child. "Surely," every one said, "we shall hear the
bells now, for nothing like this has ever happened
before."

But still only the cold old wind was heard in th^

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 119

tower and the people shook their heads; and some of
them said, as they had before, that they never really
beheved the story of the chimes, and doubted if they
ever rang at all.

The procession was over, and the choir began the
closing hymn. Suddenly the organist stopped playing,
and every one looked at the old minister, who was stand-
ing by the altar, holding up his hand for silence. Not a
sound could be heard from any one in the church, but
as all the people strained their ears to listen, there came
softly, but distinctly, swinging through the air, the
the sound of the chimes in the tower. So far away,
and yet so clear the music seemed — so much
sweeter were the notes than anything that had been
heard before, rising and falling away up there in the
sky, that the people in the church sat for a moment as
still as though something held each of them by the
shoulders. Then they all stood up together and stared
straight at the altar, to see what great gift had awak-
ened the long silent bells.

But all that the nearest of them saw was the childish
figure of Little Brother, who had crept softly down the
aisle when no one was looking, and had laid Pedro's
little piece of silver on the altar.

XIII
THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS

F, E. MANN

Founded on fact.

CHICKADEE-DEE-DEE-DEE ! Chickadee-dee-
dee-dee! Chicka " "Cheerup, cheerup,

chee-chee! Cheerup, cheerup, chee-chee!" "Ter-ra-
lee, ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee!"

"Rap-atap-atap-atap!" went the woodpecker; "Mrs-
Chickadee may speak first. "

"Friends," began Mrs. Chickadee, "why do you
suppose I called you together? "

"Because it's the day before Christmas," twittered
Snow Bunting, "And you're going to give a Christ-
mas party," chirped the Robin. "And you want us
all to come!" said Downy Woodpecker. "Hurrah!
Three cheers for Mrs. Chickadee!"

"Hush!" said Mrs. Chicakadee, "and I'll tell you
all about it. To-morrow is Christmas Day, but I don't
want to give a party. "

"Chee, chee, chee!" cried Robin Rusty-breast;
"chee, chee, chee!"

"Just listen to my little plan," said Mrs. Chickadee,

♦From "In the Child's World," by Emilie Poulssen, Milton Bradley Co..
Publishers. Used by permission.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 121

"for, indeed, I want you all to help. How many re-
member Thistle Goldfinch — the happy little fellow
who floated over the meadows through the summer
and fall?"

"Cheerup, chee-chee, cheerup, chee-chee, I do,"
sang the Robin; "how he loved to sway on thistletops!"
"Yes," said Downy Woodpecker, "and didn't he sing?
All about blue skies, and sunshine and happy days,
with his 'Swee-e-et-sweet-sweet-sweet-a-twitter-witter-
witter-witter-wee-twea ! ' "

' ' Ter-ra-lee , ter-ra-lee , ' ' said Snow B unting. * * We've
all heard of Thistle Goldfinch, but what can he have
to do with your Christmas party? He's away down
South now, and wouldn't care if you gave a dozen
parties."

"Oh, but he isn't; he's right in these very
woods!"

"Why, you don't mean "

" Indeed I do mean it, every single word. Yesterday
I was flitting about among the trees, pecking at a dead
branch here, and a bit of moss there, and before I knew it
I found myself away over at the other side of the woods!
'Chickadee-dee-dee, chickadee-dee-dee!' I sang, as 1
turned my bill toward home. Just then I heard the sad-
dest little voice pipe out: *Dear-ie me! Dear-ie me!'
and there on the sunny side of a branch perched a lone-
some bit of yellowish down. I went up to see what it
was, and found dear little Thistle Goldfinch! He was
very glad to see me, and soon told his short story.

122 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Through the summer Papa and Mamma Goldfinch
and all the brothers and sisters had a fine time, singing
together, fluttering over thistletops, or floating through
the balmy air. But when 'little Jack Frost walkec?
through the trees,' Papa Goldfinch said: 'It is high
time we went South!' All were ready but Thistle; he
wanted to stay through the winter, and begged so hard
that Papa Goldfinch soberly said: 'Try it, my son,
but do find a warm place to stay in at night.' Then off
they flew, and Thistle was alone. For a while he was
happy. The sun shone warm through the middle of
the day, and there were fields and meadows full of seeds.
You all remember how sweetly he sang for us then.
But by and by the cold North Wind came whistling
through the trees, and chilly Thistle woke up one gray
morning to find the air full of whirling snowflakes,
He didn't mind the light snows, golden-rod and some
high grasses were too tall to be easily covered, and he
got seeds from them. But now that the heavy snows
have come, the poor little fellow is almost starved, and
if he doesn't have a warm place to sleep in these cold
nights, he'll surely die!"

Mrs. Chickadee paused a minute. The birds were
so still one could hear the pine trees whisper. Then
she went on: "I comforted the poor little fellow as
best I could, and showed him where to find a few seeds;
then I flew home, for it was bedtime. I tucked my
head under my wing to keep it warm, and thought, and
thought, and thought; and here's my plan:

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 123

"We Chickadees have a nice warm home here in the
spruce trees, with their thick, heavy boughs to shut out
the snow and cold. There is plenty of room, so Thistle
could sleep here all winter. We would let him perch on
a branch, when we Chickadees would nestle around him
until he was as warm as in the lovely summer time.
These cones are so full of seeds that we could spare
him a good many; and I think that you Robins
might let him come over to your pines some day
and share your seeds. Downy Woodpecker must
keep his eyes open as he hammers the trees, and
if he spies a supply of seeds he will let us know
at once. Snow Bunting is only a visitor, so I don't
expect him to help, but I wanted him to hear my
plan with the rest of you. Now you will try, won't
you, every one?^'

"Cheerup, cheerup, ter-ra-lee! Indeed we'll try;
let's begin right away! Don't wait until to-morrow;
who'll go and find Thistle?"

"I will," chirped Robin Rusty-breast, and off he
flew to the place which Mrs. Chickadee had told of, at
the other side of the wood. There, sure enough, he
found Thistle Goldfinch sighing: "Dear-ie me! dear-ie
me! The winter is so cold and I'm here all alone!"
"Cheerup, chee-chee!" piped the Robin:

"Cheerup, cheerup, I'm here!
I'm here and I mean to stay.
What if the winter is drear —
Cheerup, cheerup anyway!"

124 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"But the snow is so deep," said Thistle, and the
Robin repHed:

"Soon the snows'U be over and gone,
Run and rippled away;
What's the use of looking forlorn?
Cheerup, cheerup, I say!"

Then he told Thistle all their plans, and wasn't
Thistle surprised? Why, he just couldn't believe a
word of it till they reached Mrs. Chickadee's
and she said it was all true. They fed him and
warmed him, then settled themselves for a good
night's rest.

Christmas morning they were chirping gaily, and
Thistle was trying to remember the happy song he sang
in the summer time, when there came a whirr of wings
as Snow Bunting flew down.

"Ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee," said he, "can you
fly a little way?"

"Oh, yes," replied Thistle. "I think I could fly a
long'W2cy."

"Come on, then," said Snow Bunting. "Every
one who wants a Christmas dinner, follow me!"
That was every word he would say, so what could they
do but follow?

Soon they came to the edge of the wood, and then to
a farmhouse. Snow Bunting flew straight up to the
piazza, and there stood a dear little girl in a warm hood
and cloak, with a pail of bird-seed on her arm, and a

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 125

dish of bread crumbs in her hand. As they flew down,
she said :

"And here are some more birdies who have come for
a Christmas dinner. Of course you shall have some,
you dear little things!" and she laughed merrily to see
them dive for the crumbs.

After they had finished eating, Elsie (that was the
Httle girl's name) said: "Now, little birds, it is going
to be a cold winter, you would better come here every
day to get your dinner. I'll always be glad to see you."

"Cheerup chee-chee, cheerup chee-chee! thank you,
thank you," cried the Robins.

"Ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee! thank you, thank
you!" twittered Snow Bunting.

" Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee,
chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee! how kind you are!" sang
the Chickadees.

And Thistle Goldfinch? Yes, he remembered his
summer song, for he sang as they flew away:

" Swee-e-et - sweet-sweet-sweet-a-twitter-witter - wit-
ter-witter-wee-twea ! "

Notes. — i. The Robin's song is from "Bird Talks," by Mrs. A. D. T.
Whitney.

2. The fact upon which this story is based — that is of the other birds
adopting and warming the solitary Thistle Goldfinch — was observed neat
Northampton, Mass., where robins and other migratory birds sometimes
spend the winter in the thick pine woods.

XIV
THE LITTLE SISTER'S VACATION*

WINIFRED M. KIRKLAND

XT WAS to be a glorious Christmas at Doctor
Brower's. All "the children" — little Peggy and
her mother always spoke of the grown-up ones as "the
children" — were coming home. Mabel was coming
from Ohio with her big husband and her two babies,
Minna and little Robin, the year-old grandson whom
the home family had never seen; Hazen was coming all
the way from the Johns Hopkins Medical School, and
Arna was coming home from her teaching in New York.

It was a trial to Peggy that vacation did not begin
until She very day before Christmas, and then continued
only one niggardly week. After school hours she had
helped her mother in the Christmas preparations every
day until she crept into bed at night with aching arms
and tired feet, to He there tossing about, whether from
weariness or glad excitement she did not know.

"Not so hard, daughter," the doctor said to her once.

"Oh, papa," protested her mother, "when we're so
busy, and Peggy is so handy!"

"Not so hard," he repeated, with his eyes on fifteen-

*This story was first published in the Youth's Companion, vol. 77.

126

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 127

year-old Peggy's delicate face, as, wearing her braids
pinned up on her head and a pinafore down to her toes,
she stoned raisins and blanched almonds, rolled bread
crumbs and beat eggs, dusted and polished and made
ready for the children.

Finally, after a day of flying about, helping with the
many last thing, Peggy let down her braids and put
on her new crimson shirtwaist, and stood with her
mother in the front doorway, for it was Christmas Eve
at last, and the station 'bus was rattHng up with the
first homecomers, Arna and Hazen.

Then there were voices ringing up and down the dark
street, and there were happy tears in the mother's
eyes, and Arna had taken Peggy's face in her two soft-
gloved hands and lifted it up and kissed it, and Hazen
had swung his little sister up in the air just as of old.
Peggy's tired feet were dancing for joy. She was help-
ing Arna take ofif her things, was carrying her bag
upstairs — would have carried Hazen's heavy grip, too,
only her father took it from her.

" Set the kettle to boil, Peggy, " directed her mother;
"then run upstairs and see if Arna wants anything.
We'll wait supper till the rest come. "

The rest came on the nine o'clock train, such a load
of them — the big, bluff brother-in-law, Mabel, plump
and laughing, as always, Minna, elfin and bright-eyed,
and sleepy Baby Robin. Such hugging, such a hubbub
of baby talk! How many things there seemed to be
to do for those precious babies right away!

128 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Peggy was here and there and everywhere. Every-
thing was in joyous confusion. Supper was to be set
on, too. While the rest ate, Peggy sat by, holding
Robin, her own little nephew, and managing at the
same time to pick up the things — napkin, knife, spoon,
bread — that Minna, hilarious with the late hour,
flung from her high chair.

It seemed as if they would never be all stowed away
for the night. Some of them wanted pitchers of warm
water, some of them pitchers of cold, and the alcohol
stove must be brought up for heating the baby's milk
at night. The house was crowded, too. Peggy had
given up her room to Hazen, and slept on a cot in the
sewing room with Minna.

The cot had been enlarged by having three chairs
piled with pillows, set along the side. But Minna
preferred to sleep in the middle of the cot, or else across
it, her restless little feet pounding at Peggy's ribs; and
Peggy was unused to any bedfellow.

She lay long awake thinking proudly of the children,
of Hazen, the tall brother, with his twinkling eyes, his
drolleries, his teasing; of graceful Arna who dressed so
daintily, talked so cleverly, and had been to college.
Arna was going to send Peggy to college, too — it was
so good of Arna! But for all Peggy's admiration for
Ama, it was Mabel, the eldest sister, who was the more
approachable. Mabel did not pretend even to as much
learning as Peggy had herself; she was happy-go-lucky
and sweet-tempered. Then her husband was a great

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 129

jolly fellow, with whom it was impossible to be shy, and
the babies — there never were such cunning babies,
Peggy thought. Just here her niece gave her a partic-
ularly vicious kick, and Peggy opposed to her train of
admiring thoughts, "But I'm so tired."

It did not seem to Peggy that she had been asleep at
all when she was waked with a vigorous pounding on
her chest and a shrill little voice in her ear:

"Ch'is'mus, Ch'is'mus, Ch'is'mus! It's mornin'!
It'sCh'is'mus!"

"Oh, no, it isn't, Minna!" pleaded Peggy, struggling
with sleepiness. " It's all dark still. "

"Ch'is'mus, Ch'is'mus, Ch'is'mus!" reiterated
Minna continuing to pound.

"Hush, dear! You'll wake Aunt Arna, and she's
tired after being all day on the chou-chou cars. "

"Merry Ch'is'mus, Aunty Arna!" shouted the
irrepressible Minna.

"Oh, darling, be quiet! We'll play little pig goes to
market. I'll tell you a story, only be quiet a little
while."

It took Peggy's utmost effort to keep the little
wriggler still for the hour from five to six. Then,
however, her shrill, "Merry Ch'is'mus!" roused the
household. Protests were of no avail. Minna was
the only granddaughter. Dark as it was, people must
get up.

Peggy must dress Minna and then hurry down to
help get breakfast — not so easy a task with Minna

I30 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

ever at one's heels. The quick-moving sprite seemed
to be everywhere — into the sugar-bowl, the cooky jar,
the steaming teakettle — before one could turn about.
Urged on by the impatient little girl, the grown-ups
made short work of breakfast.

After the meal, according to time-honoured B rower
custom, they formed in procession, single file, Minna
first, then Ben with Baby Robin. They each held
aloft a sprig of holly, and they all kept time as they
sang, " God rest you, merry gentlemen, " in their march
from the dining-room to the office. And there they
must form in circle about the tree, and dance three-
times round, singing "The Christmas-tree is an ever-
green, " before they could touch a single present.

The presents are done up according to custom, pack-
ages of every shape and size, but all in white paper and
tied with red ribbon, and all marked for somebody with
somebody else's best love. They all fall to opening,
and the babies' shouts are not the only ones to be heard.

Passers-by smile indulgently at the racket, remem-
bering that all the B rowers are home for Christmas, and
the Browers were ever a jovial company.

Peggy gazes at her gifts quietly, but with shining
eyes — little gold cuff pins from Hazen, just like Arna's;
a set of furs from Mabel and Ben; but she likes Arna's
gift best of all, a complete set of her favourite author.

But much as they would like to linger about the
Christmas tree, Peggy and her mother, at least, must
remember that the dishes must be washed and the beds

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 131

made, and that the family must get ready for church.
Peggy does not go to church, and nobody dreams how
much she wants to go. She loves the Christmas music.
No hymn rings so with joy as:

Jerusalem triumphs, Messiah is king.

The choir sings it only once a year, on the Christmas
morning. Besides, her chum Esther will be at church,
and Peggy has been too busy to go to see her since she
came home from boarding-school for the holidays.
But somebody must stay at home, and that somebody
who but Peggy? Somebody must baste the turkey
and prepare the vegetables and take care of the
babies.

Peggy is surprised to find how difficult it is to com-
bine dinner-getting with baby-tending. When she
opens the oven-door, there is Minna's head thrust up
under her arm, the inquisitive little nose in great danger
by reason of sputtering gravy.

"Minna," protests Peggy, "you mustn't eat another
bit of candy!" and Minna opens her mouth in a howl,
prolonged, but without tears and without change of
colour. Robin joins in, he does not know why. Peggy
is a doting aunt, but an honest one. She is vexed by a
growing conviction that Mabel's babies are sadly
spoiled. Peggy is ashamed of herself; surely she ought
to be perfectly happy playing with Minna and Robin.
Instead, she finds that the thing she would like best of
all to be doing at this moment, next to going to church,

132 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

would be to be lying on her father's couch in the ofl5ce,
all by herself, reading.

The dinner is a savoury triumph for Peggy and her
mother. The gravy and the mashed potato are entirely
of Peggy's workmanship, and Peggy has had a hand
in most of the other dishes, too, as the mother proudly
tells. How that merry party can eat! Peggy is
waitress, and it is long before the passing is over, and
she can sit down in her own place. She is just as fond
of the unusual Christmas good things as are the rest,
but somehow, before she is well started at her turkey,
it is time for changing plates for dessert, and before she
has tasted her nuts and raisins the babies have suc-
cumbed to sleepiness, and it is Peggy who must carry
them upstairs for their nap — just in the middle of
one of Hazen's funniest stories, too.

And all the time the little sister is so ready, so quickly
serviceable, that somehow nobody notices — nobody
but the doctor. It is he who finds Peggy, half an hour
later, all alone in the kitchen. The mother and the
older daughters are gathered about the sitting-room
hearth, engaged in the dear, delicious talk about the
little things that are always left out of letters.

The doctor interrupts them.

"Peggy is all alone," he says.

"But we're having such a good talk," the mother
pleads, "and Peggy will be done in no time! Peggy
is so handy!"

"Well, girls?" is all the doctor says, with quiet com-

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 133

mand in his eyes, and Peggy is not left to wash the
Christmas dishes all alone. Because she is smiling
and her cheeks are bright, her sisters do not notice that
her eyes are wet, for Peggy is hotly ashamed of certain
thoughts and feelings that she cannot down. She for-
gets them for a while, however, sitting on the hearth-
rug, snuggled against her father's knee in the Christmas
twilight.

Yet the troublesome thoughts came back in the even-
ing, when Peggy sat upstairs in the dark with Minna,
vainly trying to induce the excited little girl to go to
sleep, while bursts of merriment from the family below
were always breaking in upon the two in their banish-
ment.

There was another restless night of it with the little
niece, and another too early waking. Everybody but
Minna was sleepy enough, and breakfast was a pro-
tracted meal, to which the "children" came down slowly
one by one. Arna did not appear at all, and Peggy
carried up to her the daintiest of trays, all of her own
preparing. Arna's kiss of thanks was great reward.
It was dinner-time before Peggy realized it, and she had
hoped to find a quiet hour for her Latin.

The dreadful regent's examination was to come the
next week, and Peggy wanted to study for it. She had
once thought of asking Arna to help her, but Arna
seemed so tired.

In the afternoon Esther came to see her chum, and
to take her home with her to spend the night. The

134 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

babies, fretful with after-Christmas-crossness, were
tumbling over their aunt, and sadly interrupting con-
fidences, while Peggy explained that she could not go
out that evening. All the family were going to the
church sociable, and she must put the babies to bed.

"I think it's mean," Esther broke in. "Isn't it
your vacation as well as theirs? Do make that child
stop pulling your hair ! "

If Esther's words had only not echoed through
Peggy's head as they did that night! "But it is so
mean of me, so mean of me, to want my own vacation ! "
sobbed Peggy in the darkness. " I ought just to be glad
they're all at home."

Her self-reproach made her readier than ever to wait
,on them all the next morning. Nobody could make
such buckwheat cakes as could Mrs. Brower; nobody
could turn them as could Peggy. They were worth
coming from New York and Baltimore and Ohio
to eat. Peggy stood at the griddle half an hour, an
hour, two hours. Her head was aching. Hazen, the
latest riser, was joyously calling for more.

At eleven o'clock Peggy realized that she had had no
breakfast herself, and that her mother was hurrying
her off to investigate the lateness of the butcher.
Her head ached more and more, and she seemed
strangely slow in her dinner-getting and dish-washing.
Her father was away, and there was no one to
help in the clearing-up. It was three before she had
finished.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 135

Outside the sfeigh-bells sounded enticing. It was
the first sleighing of the season. Mabel and Ben had
been off for a ride, and Arna and Hazen, too. How
Peggy longed to be skimming over the snow instead of
polishing knives all alone in the kitchen. Sue Cum-
mings came that afternoon to invite Peggy to her party,
given in Esther's honour. Sue enumerated six other
gatherings that were being given that week in honour
of Esther's visit home. Sue seemed to dwell much
on the subject. Presently Peggy, with hot cheeks, un-
derstood why. Everybody was giving Esther a party,
everybody but Peggy herself. Esther's own chum,
and all the other girls, were talking about it.

Peggy stood at the door to see Sue out, and watched
the sleighs fly by. Out in the sitting-room she heard
her mother saying, "Yes, of course we can have waffles
for supper. Where's Peggy? " Then Peggy ran away.

In the wintry dusk the doctor came stamping in,
shaking the snow from his bearskins. As always,
" Where's Peggy? " was his first question.

Peggy was not to be found, they told him. They had
been all over the house, calling her. They thought she
must have gone out with Sue. The doctor seemed to
doubt this. He went through the upstairs rooms,
calling her softly. But Peggy was not in any of the
bedrooms, or in any of the closets, either. There was
still the kitchen attic to be tried.

There came a husky little moan out of its depths, as
he whispered, " Daughter ! " He groped his way to her,

136 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

and sitting down on a trunk, folded her into his bear-
skin coat.

"Now tell father all about it," he said. And it all
came out with many sobs — the nights and dawns with
Minna, the Latin, the sleighing, Esther's party, break-
fast, the weariness, the headache; and last the waffles,
which had moved the one unbearable thing.

"And it is so mean of me, so mean of mel" sobbed
Peggy. "But, oh, daddy, I do want a vacation ! "

"And you shall have one," he answered.

He carried her straight into her own room, laid
her down on her own bed, and tumbled Hazen's things
into the hall. Then he went downstairs and talked
to his family.

Presently the mother came stealing in. bearing a
glass of medicine the doctor-father had sent. Then
she undressed Peggy and put her to bed as if she had
been a baby, and sat by, smoothing her Hair, until
she fell asleep.

It seemed to Peggy that she had slept a long, long
time. The sun was shining bright. Her door opened
a crack and Arna peeped in, and seeing her awake,
came to the bed and kissed her good morning.

"I'm so sorry, little sister!" she said.

"Sorry for what?" asked the wondering Peggy.

"Because I didn't see," said Arna. "But now I'm
going to bring up your breakfast."

" Oh, no ! " cried Peggy, sitting up.

"Oh, yes!" said Arna, with quiet authority. It

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 137

was as dainty cooking as Peggy's own, and Arna sat
by to watch her eat.

"You're so good to me, Arna!" said Peggy.

"Not very," answered Arna, dryly. "When you've
finished this you must lie up here away from the children
and read."

"But who will take care of Minna?" questioned
Peggy.

"Minna's mamma," answered a voice from the next
room, where Mabel was pounding pillows. She came
to the door to look in on Peggy in all her luxury of
orange marmalade to eat, Christmas books to read,
and Arna to wait upon her.

"I think mothers, not aunts, were meant to look
after babies," said Mabel. "I'm so sorry, dear!"

"Oh, I wish you two wouldn't talk like that!" cried
Peggy. " I'm so ashamed."

"All right, we'll stop talking," said Mabel quickly,
" but we'll remember."

They would not let Peggy lift her hand to any of the
work that day. Mabel managed the babies master-
fully. Arna moved quietly about, accomplishing won-
ders.

"But aren't you tired, Arna? " queried Peggy.

"Not a bit of it, and I'll have time to help you with
your Caesar before "

"Before what?" asked Peggy, but got no answer.
They had been translating famously, when, in the late
afternoon, there came a ring of the doorbell. Peggy

138 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

found Hazen bowing low, and craving " Mistress Peggy's
company." A sleigh and two prancing horses stood
at the gate.

It was a glorious drive. Peggy's eyes danced and
her laugh rang out at Hazen's drolleries. The world
stretched white all about them, and their horses flew
on and on Hke the wind. They rode till dark, then
turned back to the village, twinkling with lights.

The Brower house was aHght in every window, and
there was the sound of many voices in the hall. The
door flew open upon a laughing crowd of boys and girls.
Peggy, all glowing and rosy with the wind, stood utterly
bewildered until Esther rushed forward and hugged
and shook her.

" It's a party ! " she exclaimed. "One of your mother's
wafile suppers! We're all here! Isn't it splendid?"

"But, but, but " stammered Peggy.

"'But, but, but,'" mimicked Esther. "But this
is your vacation, don't you see? "

XV

LITTLE WOLFF'S WOODEN SHOES

A CHRISTMAS STORY BY FRANCOIS COPPEE; ADAPTED AND
TRANSLATED BY ALMA J. FOSTER

ONCE upon a time — so long ago that everybody
has forgotten the date — in a city in the north of
Europe — with such a hard name that nobody can
ever remember it — there was a httle seven-year-old
boy named Wolff, whose parents were dead, who lived
with a cross and stingy old aunt, who never thought
of kissing him more than once a year and who sighed
deeply whenever she gave him a bowlful of soup.

But the poor little fellow had such a sweet nature
that in spite of everything, he loved the old woman,
although he was terribly afraid of her and could never
look at her ugly old face without shivering.

As this aunt of httle Wolff was known to have a house
of her own and an old woollen stocking full of gold, she
had not dared to send the boy to a charity school; but,
in order to get a reduction in the price, she had so
wrangled with the master of the school, to which little
Wolff finally went, that this bad man, vexed at having
a pupil so poorly dressed and paying so little, often pun-
ished him unjustly, and even prejudiced his companions

139

I40 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

against him, so that the three boys, all sons of rich
parents, made a drudge and laughing stock of the little
fellow.

The poor little one was thus as wretched as a child
could be and used to hide himself in corners to weep
^yhenever Christmas time came.

It was the schoolmaster's custom to take all his
pupils to the midnight mass on Christmas Eve, and to
bring them home again afterward.

Now, as the winter this year was very bitter, and as
heavy snow had been falhng for several days, all the
boys came weU bundled up in warm clothes, with fur
caps pulled over their ears, padded jackets, gloves and
knitted mittens, and strong, thick-soled boots. Only
little Wolff presented himself shivering in the poor
clothes he used to wear both weekdays and Sundays and
having on his feet only thin socks in heavy wooden
shoes.

His naughty companions noticing his sad face and
awkward appearance, made many jokes at his expense;
but the Httle fellow was so busy blowing on his fingers,
and was suffering so much with chilblains, that he took
no notice of them. So the band of youngsters, walking
two and two behind the master, started for the church.

It was pleasant in the church which was brilliant
with lighted candles; and the boys excited by the
warmth took advantage of the music of the choir and
the organ to chatter among themselves in low tones.
They bragged about the fun that was awaiting them

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 141

at home. The mayor's son had seen, just before
starting off, an immense goose ready stuffed and dressed
for cooking. At the alderman's home there was a httle
pine-tree with branches laden down with oranges,
sweets, and toys. And the lawyer's cook had put
on her cap with such care as she never thought of
taking unless she was expecting something very good!

Then they talked, too, of all that the Christ-Child was
going to bring them, of all he was going to put in their
shoes which, you might be sure, they would take good
care to leave in the chimney place before going to bed;
and the eyes of these little urchins, as lively as a cage
of mice, were sparkling in advance over the joy they
would have when they awoke in the morning and
saw the pink bag full of sugar-plums, the little lead
soldiers ranged in companies in their boxes, the menag-
eries smeUing of varnished wood, and the magnificent
jumping-jacks in purple and tinsel.

Alas! Little Wolff knew by experience that his
old miser of an aunt would send him to bed supperless,
but, with childhke faith and certain of having been,
all the year, as good and industrious as possible, he
hoped that the Christ-Child would not forget him,
and so he, too, planned to place his wooden shoes in
good time in the fireplace.

Midnight mass over, the worshippers departed,
eager for their fun, and the band of pupils always
walking two and two, and following the teacher, left
the church.

142 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Now, in the porch and seated on a stone bench set
in the niche of a painted arch, a child was sleeping —
a child in a white woollen garment, but with his little
feet bare, in spite of the cold. He was not a beggar,
for his garment was white and new, and near him on
the floor was a bundle of carpenter's tools.

In the clear light of the stars, his face, with its
closed eyes, shone with an expression of divine sweet-
ness, and his long, curhng, blond locks seemed to form
a halo about his brow. But his little child's feet,
made blue by the cold of this bitter December night,
were pitiful to see!

The boys so well clothed for the winter weather passed
by quite indifferent to the unknown child; several
of them, sons of the notables of the town, however,
cast on the vagabond looks in which could be read all
the scorn of the rich for the poor, of the well-fed for
the hungry.

But httle Wolff, coming last out of the church,
stopped, deeply touched, before the beautiful sleeping
child.

"Oh, dear!" said the little fellow to himself, "this
is frightful! This poor little one has no shoes and
stockings in this bad weather — and, what is still
worse, he has not even a wooden shoe to leave near him
to-night while he sleeps, into which the little Christ-
Child can put something good to soothe his misery."

And carried away by his loving heart, Wolff drew the
Wooden shoe from his right foot, laid it down before

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 143

the sleeping child, and, as best he could, sometimes
hopping, sometimes Hmping with his sock wet by the
snow, he went home to his aunt.

"Look at the good-for-nothing!" cried the old
woman, full of wrath at the sight of the shoeless boy.
"What have you done with your shoe, you Httle
viUain?"

Little Wolff did not know how to lie, so, although
trembhng with terror when he saw the rage of the
old shrew, he tried to relate his adventure.

But the miserly old creature only burst into a
frightful fit of laughter.

"Aha! So my young gentleman strips himself
for the beggars. Aha! My young gentleman breaks
his pair of shoes for a bare-foot! Here is something
new, forsooth. Very well, since it is this way, I shall
put the only shoe that is left into the chimney-place,
and I'U answer for it that the Christ-Child will put in
something to-night to beat you with in the morning!
And you will have only a crust of bread and water
to-morrow. And we shall see if the next time, you
will be giving your shoes to the first vagabond that
happens along."

And the wicked woman having boxed the ears of
the poor Httle fellow, made him climb up into the loft
where he had his wretched cubbyhole.

Desolate, the child went to bed in the dark and soon
fell asleep, but his pillow was wet with tears.

But behold ! the next morning when the old woman,

Z44 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

awakened early by the cold, went downstairs — oh,
wonder of wonders — she saw the big chimney filled
with shining toys, bags of magnificent bonbons, and
riches of every sort, and standing out in front of aU
this treasure, was the right wooden shoe which the
boy had given to the httle vagabond, yes, and beside it,
the one which she had placed in the chimney to hold
the bunch of switches.

As Httle Wolff, attracted by the cries of his aunt,
stood in an ecstasy of childish dehght before the
splendid Christmas gifts, shouts of laughter were
heard outside. The woman and child ran out to see
what all this meant, and behold ! all the gossips of the
town were standing around the public fountain.
What could have happened? Oh, a most ridiculous
and extraordinary thing! The children of the richest
men in the town, whom their parents had planned
to surprise with the most beautiful presents had found
only switches in their shoes!

Then the old woman and the child thinking of all
the riches in their chimney were filled with fear. But
suddenly they saw the priest appear, his countenance
full of astonishment. Just above the bench placed
near the door of the church, in the very spot where,
the night before, a child in a white garment and with
bare feet, in spite of the cold, had rested his lovely
head, the priest had found a circlet of gold imbedded
in the old stones.

Then, they all crossed themselves devoutly, per-

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 145

ceiving that this beautiful sleeping child with the
carpenter's tools had been Jesus of Nazareth himself,
who had come back for one hour just as he had been
when he used to work in the home of his parents; and
reverently they bowed before this miracle, which the
good God had done to reward the faith and the love
of a httle child.

XVI

CHRISTMAS IN THE ALLEY*

OLIVE THORNE MILLER

I DECLARE for 't, to-morrow is Christmas Day
an' I clean forgot all about it," said old Ann, the
washerwoman, pausing in her work and holding the
flatiron suspended in the air.

"Much good it'll do us," growled a discontented
voice from the coarse bed in the corner.

"We haven't much extra, to be sure," answered
Ann cheerfully, bringing the iron down onto the shirt-
bosom before her, "but at least we've enough to eat,
and a good fire, and that's more'n some have, not a
thousand miles from here either."

"We might have plenty more," said the fretful
voice, "if you didn't think so much more of strangers
than you do of your own folk's comfort, keeping a
houseful of beggars, as if you was a lady ! "

"Now, John," replied Ann, taking another iron
from the fire, "you're not half so bad as you pretend.
You wouldn't have me turn them poor creatures into
the streets to freeze, now, would you? "

"It's none of our business to pay rent for them,"
gnmibled John. "Every one for himseK, I say,

*From "Kristy's Queer Christmas," Houghton, Miffin & Co., 1904.

T46

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES HI

these hard times. If they can't pay you'd ought to
send 'em off; there's plenty as can."

"They'd pay quick enough if they could get work,"
said Ann. "They're good honest fellows, every one,
and paid me regular as long as they had a cent. But
when hundreds are out o' work in the city, what can
they do?"

"That's none o' your business, you can turn 'em
out!" growled John.

"And leave the poor children to freeze as well as
starve?" said Ann. "Who'd ever take 'em in without
money, I'd like to know? No, John," bringing her
iron down as though she meant it, "I'm glad I'm
well enough to wash and iron, and pay my rent,
and so long as I can do that, and keep the hunger
away from you and the child, I'll never turn the poor
souls out, leastways, not in this freezing winter
weather,"

"An' here's Christmas," the old man went on whin-
ingly, ''an' not a penny to spend, an' I needin' another
blanket so bad, with my rhumatiz, an' haven't had
a drop of tea for I don't know how long! "

"I know it," said Ann, never mentioning that she
too had been without tea, and not only that, but with
small allowance of food of any kind, "and I'm desperate
sorry I can't get a bit of something for Katey. The
child never missed a little something in her stocking
before."

"Yes," John struck in, "much you care for your

148 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

flesh an' blood. The child ha'n't had a thing this
winter."

"That's true enough," said Ann, with a sigh, "an'
it's the hardest thing of aU that I've had to keep her
out o' school when she was doing so beautiful."

"An' her feet all on the ground," growled John.

"I know her shoes is bad," said Ann, hanging the
shirt up on a line that stretched across the room, and
was already nearly full of freshly ironed clothes, "but
they're better than the Parker children's."

"What's that to us?" almost shouted the weak old
man, shaking his fist at her in his rage.

"Well, keep your temper, old man," said Ann.
"I'm sorry it goes so hard with you, but as long as I
can stand on my feet, I sha'n't turn anybody out to
freeze, that's certain."

"How much'U you get for them?" said the miserable
old man, after a few moments' silence, indicating by
his hand the clean clothes on the line.

"Two dollars," said Ann, "and half of it must
go to help make up next month's rent. I've got
a good bit to make up yet, and only a week to do
it in, and I sha'n't have another cent till day after
to-morrow." J

" Well, I wish you'd manage to buy me a little tea,"
whined the old man; "seems as if that would go right
to the spot, and warm up my old bones a bit.'

"I'll try," said Ann, revolving in her mind how she
could save a few pennies from her indispensable

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 149

purchases to get tea and sugar, for without sugar he
would not touch it.

Wearied with his unusual exertion, the old man now
dropped off to sleep, and Ann went softly about, folding
and piling the clothes into a big basket already half
full. When they were aU packed in, and nicely covered
with a piece of clean mushn, she took an old shawl and
hood from a nail in the corner, put them on, blew out
the candle, for it must not burn one moment unneces-
sarily, and, taking up her basket, went out into the
cold winter night, softly closing the door behind
her.

The house was on an aUey, but as soon as she turned
the corner she was in the bright streets, gUttering with
lamps and gay people. The shop windows were bril-
liant with Christmas displays, and thousands of warmly
dressed buyers were lingering before them, laughing
and chatting, and selecting their purchases. Surely it
seemed as if there could be no want here.

As quickly as her burden would let her, the old
washerwoman passed through the crowd into a broad
street and rang the basement bell of a large, showy
house.

"Oh, it's the washerwoman!" said a flashy-looking
servant who answered the bell; "set the basket right
in here. Mrs. Keithe can't look them over to-night,
there's company in the parlour — Miss Carry's Christ-
mas party."

"Ask her to please pay me — at least a part," said

I50 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

old Ann hastily. "I don't see how I can do without
the money. I counted on it."

" I'll ask her," said the pert young woman, turning to
go upstairs; "but it's no use."

Returning in a moment, she delivered the message.
"She has no change to-night; you're to come in the
morning."

"Dear me!" thought Ann, as she plodded back
through the streets, "it'll be even worse than I expected,
for there's not a morsel to eat in the house, and not
a penny to buy one with. Well — well — the Lord will
provide, the Good Book says, but it's mighty dark
days, and it's hard to beheve."

Entering the house, Ann sat down silently before
the expiring fire. She was tired, her bones ached, and
she was faint for want of food.

Wearily she rested her head on her hands, and tried
to think of some way to get a few cents. She had
nothing she could sell or pawn, everything she could
do without had gone before, in similar emergencies.
After sitting there some time, and revolving plan after
plan, only to find them all impossible, she was forced
to conclude that they must go supperless to bed.

Her husband grumbled, and Katey — who came in
from a neighbour's — cried with hunger, and after
they were asleep old Ann crept into bed to keep warm,
more disheartened than she had been all winter.

If we could only see a little way ahead ! All this
time — the darkest the house on the alley had seen ■

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 151

help was on the way to them. A kind-hearted city
missionary, visiting one of the unfortunate famiHes
living in the upper rooms of old Ann's house, had
learned from them of the noble charity of the humble
old washerwoman. It was more than princely charity,
for she not only denied herself nearly every comfort,
but she endured the reproaches of her husband, and
the tears of her child.

Telling the story to a party of his friends this Christ-
mas Eve, their hearts were troubled, and they at once
emptied their purses into his hands for her. And the
gift was at that very moment in the pocket of the
missionary, waiting for morning to make her Christ-
mas happy.

Christmas morning broke clear and cold. Ann was
up early, as usual, made her fire, with the last of her coal,
cleared up her two rooms, and, leaving her husband
and Katey in bed, was about starting out to try and
get her money to provide a breakfast for them. At
the door she met the missionary.

"Good-morning, Ann," said he. "I wish you a
Merry Chri stmas . ' '

"Thank you, sir," said Ann cheerfully; "the same
to yourself."

"Have you been to breakfast already?" asked the
missionary.

"No, sir," said Ann. "I was just going out for it.**

"I haven't either," said he, "but I couldn't beaj
io wait until I had eaten breakfast before I brought you

152 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

your Christmas present — I suspect you haven't had
any yet."

Ann smiled. "Indeed, sir, I haven't had one since
I can remember."

"Well, I have one for you. Come in, and I'll tell
you about it."

Too much amazed for words, Ann led him into the
room. The missionary opened his purse, and handed
her a roll of bills.

" Why — what !" she gasped, taking it mechanically.

" Some friends of mine heard of your generous treat-
ment of the poor families upstairs," he went on, "and
they send you this, with their respects and best wishes
for Christmas. Do just what you please with it — it
is wholly yours. No thanks," he went on, as she
struggled to speak. "It's not from me. Just enjoy
it — that's all. It has done them more good to give
than it can you to receive," and before she could speak
a word he was gone.

What did the old washerwoman do?

Well, first she fell on her knees and buried her agi-
tated face in the bedclothes. After a while she became
aware of a storm of words from her husband, and she
got up, subdued as much as possible her agitation,
and tried to answer his frantic questions.

"How much did he give you, old stupid?" he
screamed; "can't you speak, or are you struck dumb?
Wake up! I just wish I could reach you! I'd shake you
till your teeth rattled!"

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 153

If his vicious looks were a sign, it was evident that
he only lacked the strength to be as good as his word.

Ann roused herself from her stupour and spoke at last.

"I don't know. I'll count it." She unrolled the
bills and began.

"O Lord!" she exclaimed excitedly, "here's ten-
dollar bills! One, two, three, and a twenty — that
makes five — and five are fifty-five — sixty — seventy
— eighty — eighty-five — ninety — one hundred —
and two and five are seven, and two and one are ten,
twenty — twenty-five — one hundred and twenty-five!
Why, I'm rich!" she shouted. "Bless the Lord!
Oh, this is the glorious Christmas Day! I knew He'd
provide. Katey! Katey!" she screamed at the door
of the other room, where the child lay asleep. " Merry
Christmas to you, darlin' ! Now you can have some
shoes! and a new dress! and — and — breakfast, and
a regular Christmas dinner! Oh! I believe I shall go
crazy!"

But she did not. Joy seldoms hurts people, and she
was brought back to everyday affairs by the querulous
voice of her husband.

"Now I will have my tea, an' a new blanket, an'
some tobacco — how I have wanted a pipe!" and he
went on enumerating his wants while Ann bustled
about, putting away most of her money, and once more
getting ready to go out.

"I'll run out and get some breakfast," she said,
" but don't you tell a soul about the money."

154 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"No! they'll rob us!" shrieked the old man.

"Nonsense! I'll hide it well, but I want to keep it a
secret for another reason. Mind, Katey, don't you tell?"

"No!" said Katey, with wide eyes. "But can I
truly have a new frock. Mammy, and new shoes —
and is it reaUy Christmas?"

"It's really Christmas, darlin'," said Ann, "and
you'll see what mammy'll bring home to you, after
breakfast."

The luxurious meal of sausages, potatoes, and hot tea
was soon smoking on the table, and was eagerly de-
voured by Katey and her father. But Ann could not eat
much. She was absent-minded, and only drank a cup
of tea. As soon as breakfast was over, she left Katey
to wash the dishes, and started out again.

She walked slowly down the street, revolving a great
plan in her mind.

"Let me see," she said to herself. "They shall have
a happy day for once. I suppose John'll grumble, but
the Lord has sent me this money, and I mean to use
part of it to make one good day for them."

Having settled this in her mind, she walked on more
quickly, and visited various shops in the neighbour-
hood. When at last she went home, her big basket
was stuffed as full as it could hold, and she carried a
bundle besides.

"Here's your tea, John," she said cheerfully, as
she unpacked the basket, "a whole pound of it, and
sugar, and tobacco, and a new pipe."

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 155

"Give me some now," said the old man eagerly;
''don't wait to take out the rest of the things."

"And here's a new frock for you, Katey," old Ann
went on, after making John happy with his treasures,
"a real bright one, and a pair of shoes, and some real
woollen stockings; oh! how warm you'll be!"

"Oh, how nice. Mammy!" cried Katey, jiunping
about. "When will you make my frock?"

"To-morrow," answered the mother, "and you can
go to school again."

"Oh, goody!" she began, but her face fell. "If
only Molly Parker could go too!"

"You wait and see," answered Ann, with a knowing
look. "Who knows what Christmas will bring to
MoUy Parker?"

"Now here's a nice big roast," the happy woman went
on, still unpacking, "and potatoes and turnips and cab-
bage and bread and butter and coffee and "

"What in the world! You goin' to give a party?"
asked the old man between the puffs, staring at her
in wonder.

" I'll tell you just what I am going to do," said Ann
firmly, bracing herself for opposition, "and it's as
good as done, so you needn't say a word about it.
I'm going to have a Christmas dinner, and I'm going
to invite every blessed soul in this house to come.
They shall be warm and full for once in their lives,
please God ! And, Katey," she went on breathlessly, be^
fore the old man had sufficiently recovered from his as-

156 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

tonishment to speak, "go right upstairs now, and invite
every one of 'em from the fathers down to Mrs. Parker's
baby to come to dinner at three o'clock; we'll have to
keep fashionable hours, it's so late now; and mind,
Katey, not a word about the money. And hurry back,
child, I want you to help me."

To her surprise, the opposition from her husband was
less than she expected. The genial tobacco seemed
to have quieted his nerves, and even opened his heart.
Grateful for this, Ann resolved that his pipe should
never lack tobacco while she could work.

But now the cares of dinner absorbed her. The
meat and vegetables were prepared, the pudding made,
and the long table spread, though she had to borrow
every table in the house, and every dish to have enough
to go around.

At three o'clock when the guests came in, it was
really a very pleasant sight. The bright warm fire,
the long table, covered with a substantial, and, to
them, a luxurious meal, all smoking hot. John, in his
neatly brushed suit, in an armchair at the foot of the
table, Ann in a bustle of hurry and welcome, and a plate
and a seat for every one.

How the half-starved creatures enjoyed it; how the
children stuffed and the parents looked on with a
happiness that was very near to tears; how old John
actually smiled and urged them to send back their
plates again and again, and how Ann, the washer-
Woman, was the life and soul of it all, I can't half tell.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 157

After dinner, when the poor women lodgers insisted
on clearing up, and the poor men sat down by the
fire to smoke, for old John actually passed around
his beloved tobacco, Ann quietly slipped out for a few
minutes, took four large bundles from a closet under
the stairs, and disappeared upstairs. She was scarcely
missed before she was back again.

Well, of course it was a great day in the house on the
alley, and the guests sat long into the twilight before
the warm fire, talking of their old homes in the father-
land, the hard winter, and prospects for work in the
spring.

When at last they returned to the chilly discomfort of
their own rooms, each family found a package contain-
ing a new warm dress and pair of shoes for every woman
and child in the family.

"And I have enough left,'' said Ann the washer-
woman, to herself, when she was reckoning up the ex-
penses of the day, "to buy my coal and pay my rent tih
spring, so I can save my old bones a bit. And sure John
can't grumble at their staying now, for it's all along of
keeping them that I had such a blessed Christmas
day at all."

XVII
A CHRISTMAS STAR*

KATHERINE PYLE

COME now, my dear little stars," said Mother
Moon, "and I will tell you the Christmas story."

Every morning for a week before Christmas, Mother
Moon used to call all the little stars around her and
tell them a story.

It was always the same story, but the stars never
wearied of it. It was the story of the Christmas star —
the Star of Bethlehem.

When Mother Moon had finished the story the little
stars always said: "And the star is shining stilly
isn't it, Mother Moon, even if we can't see it?"

And Mother Moon would answer: "Yes, my dears;
only now it shines for men's hearts instead of their
eyes."

Then the stars would bid the Mother Moon good-
night and put on their little blue nightcaps and go to
bed in the sky chamber; for the stars' bedtime is when
people down on the earth are beginning to waken and
see that it is morning.

But that particular morning when the little stars

Published by permission of the American Book Co.

iS8

CHrLDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 159

said good-night and went quietly away, one golden
star still lingered beside Mother Moon.

"What is the matter, my little star?" asked the
Mother Moon. "Why don't you go with your little
sisters?"

"Oh, Mother Moon," said the golden star. "I am
so sad ! I wish I could shine for some one's heart like
that star of wonder that you tell us about."

"Why, aren't you happy up here in the sky coun-
try?" asked Mother Moon.

"Yes, I have been very happy," said the star; "but
to-night it seems just as if I must find some heart to
shine for."

"Then if that is so," said Mother Moon, "the time
has come, my little star, for you to go through the
Wonder Entry."

"The Wonder Entry? What is that?" asked the
star. But the Mother Moon made no answer.

Rising, she took the little star by the hand and led
it to a door that it had never seen before.

The Mother Moon opened the door, and there was
a long dark entry; at the far end was shining a little
speck of light.

"What is this?" asked the star.

"It is the Wonder Entry; and it is through this that
you must go to find the heart where you belong,"
said the Mother Moon.

Then the little star was afraid.

It longed to go through the entry as it had never

i6o CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

longed for anything before; and yet it was afraid and
clung to the Mother Moon.

But very gently, almost sadly, the Mother Moon
drew her hand away. " Go, my child," she said.

Then, wondering and trembling, the little star stepped
into the Wonder Entry, and the door of the sky house
closed behind it.

The next thing the star knew it was hanging in a
toy shop with a whole row of other stars blue and red
and silver. It itself was gold.

The shop smelled of evergreen, and was full of
Christmas shoppers, men and women and children;
but of them all, the star looked at no one but a little
boy standing in front of the counter; for as soon as
the star saw the child it knew that he was the one to
whom it belonged.

The little boy was standing beside a sweet-faced
woman in a long black veil and he was not looking at
anything in particular.

The star shook and trembled on the string that held
it, because it was afraid lest the child would not see it,
or lest, if he did, he would not know it as his star.

The lady had a number of toys on the counter before
her, and she was saying: "Now I think we have pres-
ents for every one: There's the doll for Lou, and
the game for Ned, and the music box for May; and
then the rocking horse and the sled."

Suddenly the little boy caught her by the arm.
" Oh, mother," he said. He had seen the star.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES i6i

"Well, what is it, darling?" asked the lady.

"Oh, mother, just see that star up there! I wish
— oh, I do wish I had it."

"Oh, my dear, we have so many things for the Christ-
mas-tree," said the mother.

"Yes, I know, but I do want the star," said the
child.

"Very well," said the mother, smiling; "then we
will take that, too."

So the star was taken down ffom the place where it
hung and wrapped up in a piece of paper, and all the
while it thrilled with joy, for now it belonged to the
little boy.

It was not until the afternoon before Christmas,
when the tree was being decorated, that the golden
star was unwrapped and taken out from the paper.

"Here is something else," said the sweet-faced lady.
"We must hang this on the tree. Paul took such a
fancy to it that I had to get it for him. He will never
be satisfied unless we hang it on too."

"Oh, yes," said some one else who was helping to
decorate the tree; "we will hang it here on the very
top."

So the little star hung on the highest branch of the
Christmas-tree.

That evening all the candles were lighted on the
Christmas-tree, and there were so many that they
fairly dazzled the eyes; and the gold and silver balls,
the fairies and the glass fruits, shone and twinkled

i52 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

in the light; and high above them all shone the golden
star.

At seven o'clock a bell was rung, and then the
folding doors of the room where the Christmas-tree
stood were thrown open, and a crowd of children came
trooping in.

They laughed and shouted and pointed, and all
talked together, and after a while there was music, and
presents were taken from the tree and given to the
children.

How different it all was from the great wide, still
sky house!

But the star had never been so happy in all its life;
for the little boy was there.

He stood apart from the other children, looking up
at the star, with his hands clasped behind him, and he
did not seem to care for the toys and the games.

At last it was all over. The lights were put out, the
children went home, and the house grew still.

Then the ornaments on the tree began to talk among
themselves.

"So that is all over," said a silver ball. "It was
very gay this evening — the gayest Christmas I
remember."

"Yes," said a glass bunch of grapes; "the best of it
is over. Of course people -will come to look at us for
several days yet, but it won't be like this evening."

"And then I suppose we'll be laid away for another
year," said a paper fairy. "Really it seems hardly

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 163

worth while. Such a few days out of the year and then
to be shut up in the dark box again. I ahnost wish
I were a paper doll."

The bunch of grapes was wrong in saying that people
would come to look at the Christmas-tree the next
few days, for it stood neglected in the library and
nobody came near it. Everybody in the house went
about very quietly, with anxious faces; for the little
boy was ill.

At last, one evening, a woman came into the room
with a servant. The woman wore the cap and apron
of a nurse.

"That is it," she said, pointing to the golden star.

The servant climbed up on some steps and took down
the star and put it in the nurse's hand, and she carried
it out into the hall and upstairs to a room where the
little boy lay.

The sweet-faced lady was sitting by the bed, an(?
as the nurse came in she held out her hand for the star.

"Is this what you wanted, my darling?" she asked,
bending over the little boy.

The child nodded and held out his hands for the
star; and as he clasped it a wonderful, shining smile
came over his face.

The next morning the little boy's room was very
still and dark.

The golden piece of paper that had been the star
lay on a table beside the bed, its five points very sharp
and bright.

164. CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

But it was not the real star, any more than a person^s
body is the real person.

The real star was living and shining now in the little
boy's heart, and it had gone out with him into a new
and more beautiful sky country than it had ever known
before — the sky country where the little child angels
live, each one carrying in its heart its own particular
star.

XVIII
THE QUEEREST CHRISTMAS*

GRACE MARGARET GALLAHER

BETTY stood at her door, gazing drearily down
the long, empty corridor in which the breakfast
gong echoed mournfully. All the usual brisk scenes
of that hour, groups of girls in Peter Thomson suits
or starched shirt-waists, or a pair of energetic ones,
red-cheeked and shining-eyed from a run in the snow.
had vanished as by the hand of some evil magician-
Silent and lonely was the corridor.

"And it's the day before Christmas!" groaned Betty.
Two chill little tears hung on her eyelashes.

The night before, in the excitement of getting the
girls off with all their trunks and packages intact,
she had not realized the homesickness of the deserted
school. Now it seemed to pierce her very bones.

"Oh, dear, why did father have to lose his money?
'Twas easy enough last September to decide I wouldn't
take the expensive journey home these holidays, and
for all of us to promise we wouldn't give each other as
much as a Christmas card. But now!" The two
chill tears slipped over the edge of her eyelashes.

•This story was first published in the Youth's Companion, vol. 83.

i6s

i66 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"Well, I know how I'll spend this whole day; I*U
come right up here after breakfast and cry and cry and
cry!" Somewhat fortified by this cheering resolve^
Betty went to breakfast.

Whatever the material joys of that meal might be,
it certainly was not "a feast of reason and a flow of
soul." Betty, whose sense of humour never perished,
even in such a frost, looked round the table at the
eight grim-faced girls doomed to a Christmas in
school, and quoted mischievously to herself: " On
with the dance, let joy be unconfined."

Breakfast bolted, she lagged back to her room,
stopping to stare out of the corridor windows.

She saw nothing of the snowy landscape, however.
Instead, a picture, the gayest medley of many colours
and figures, danced before her eyes: Christmas-trees
thumping in through the door, mysterious bundles
scurried into dark comers, little brothers and sisters
flying about with festoons of mistletoe, scadet ribbon
and holly, everywhere sound and laughter and excite-
ment. The motto of Betty's family was: "Never
do to-day what you can put ofif till to-morrow";
therefore the preparations of a fortnight were always
crowded into a day.

The year before, Betty had rushed till her nerves
were taut and her temper snapped, had shaken the
twins, raged at the housemaid, and had gone to bed
at midnight weeping with weariness. But in memory
only the joy of the day remained.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 167

"I think I could endure this jail of a school, and
not getting one single present, but it breaks my heart
not to give one least little thing to any one! Why,
who ever heard of such a Christmas!"

"Won't you hunt for that blue "

"Broken my thread again!"

" Give me those scissors! "

Betty jumped out of her day-dream. She had wan-
dered into "Cork" and the three O'NeiUs surrounded
her, staring.

"I beg your pardon — I heard you — and it was so
like home the day before Christmas "

"Did you hear the heathen rage?" cried Katherine.

"Dolls for Aunt Anne's mission," explained Con-
stance.

"You're so forehanded that all your presents went
a week ago, I suppose, " Eleanor swept clear a chair.
"The clan O'NeiU is never forehanded."

"You'd think I was from the number of thumbs I've
grown this morning. Oh, misery!" Eleanor jerked a
snarl of thread out on the floor.

Betty had never cared for "Cork" but now the hot
worried faces of its girls appealed to her.

"Let me help. I'm a regular silkworm."

The O'Neills assented with eagerness, and Betty
began to sew in a capable, swift way that made the
others stare and sigh with relief.

The dolls were many, the O'Neills slow. Betty
worked till her feet twitched on the floor; yet she

i68 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

enjoyed the morning, for it held an entirely new
sensation, that of helping some one else get ready for
Christmas.

"Done!"

"We never should have finished if you hadn't
helped! Thank you, Betty Luther, very, very much!
You're a duck! Let's run to luncheon together,
quick."

Somehow the big corridors did not seem half so
bleak echoing to those warm O'Neill voices.

"This morning's just spun by, but, oh, this long,
dreary afternoon!" sighed Betty, as she wandered
into the library. "Oh, me, there goes Alice Johns
with her arms loaded with presents to mail, and I
can't give a single soul anything!"

"Do you know where 'Quotations for Occasions'
has gone?" Betty turned to face pretty Rosamond
Howitt, the only senior left behind.

" Gone to be rebound. I heard Miss Dyce say so. "

"Oh, dear, I needed it so."

" Could I help ? I know a lot of rhymes and tags of
proverbs and things like that."

" Oh, if you would help me, I'd be so grateful ! Won't
you come to my room? You see, I promised a friend
in town, who is to have a Christmas dinner, and who's
been very kind to me, that I'd paint the place cards
and write some quotation appropriate to each guest.
I'm shamefully late over it, my own gifts took such a
time; but the painting, at least, is done."

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 169

Rosamond led the way to her room, and there
displayed the cards which she had painted.

"You can't think of my helplessness! If it were
a Greek verb now, or a lost and strayed angle — but
poetry!"

Betty trotted back and forth between the room and
the library, delved into books, and even evolved a
verse which she audaciously tagged "old play," in
imitation of Sir Walter Scott.

"I think they are really and truly very bright, and
I know Mrs. Fernell will be delighted." Rosamond
wrapped up the cards carefully. "I can't begin to
tell you how you've helped me. It was sweet in you
to give me your whole afternoon."

The dinner-bell rang at that moment, and the two
went down together.

"Come for a little run; I haven't been out all day,"
whispered Rosamond, slipping her hand into Betty's
as they left the table.

A great round moon swung cold and bright over the
pines by the lodge.

"Down the road a bit — just a little way — to the
church," suggested Betty.

They stepped out into the silent country road.

"Why, the Httle mission is as gay as — as Christmas!
I wonder why?"

Betty glanced at the bright windows of the small
plain church. "Oh, some Christmas-eve doings," she
answered.

..jQ CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Some one stepped quickly out from the church
door.

"Oh, Miss Vernon, I am relieved! I had begun to
fear you could not come."

The girls saw it was the tall old rector, his white
hair shining silver bright in the moonbeams.

"We're just two girls from the school, sir," said
Rosamond.

"Dear, dear!" His voice was both impatient and
distressed. "I hoped you were my organist. We
are all ready for our Christmas-eve service, but we can
do nothing without the music."

"I can play the organ a little," said Betty. "I'd
be glad to help."

"You can? My dear child, how fortunate! But —
do you know the service? "

"Yes, sir, it's my church."

No vested choir stood ready to march triumphantly
chanting into the choir stalls. Only a few boys and
girls waited in the dim old choir loft, where Rosamond
seated herself quietly.

Betty's fingers trembled so at first that the music
sounded dull and far away; but her courage crept
back to her in the silence of the church, and the organ
seemed to help her with a brave power of its own.
In the dark church only the altar and a great gold star
above it shone bright. Through an open window
somewhere behind her she could hear the winter wind
rattling the ivy leaves and bending the trees. Yet.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 171

somehow, she did not feel lonesome and forsaken this
Christmas eve, far away from home, but safe and com-
forted and sheltered. The voice of the old rector
reached her faintly in pauses; habit led her along the
service, and the star at the altar held her eyes.

Strange new ideas and emotions flowed in upon her
brain. Tears stole softly into her eyes, yet she felt
in her heart a sweet glow. Slowly the Christmas
picture that had flamed and danced before her aU
day, painted in the glory of holly and mistletoe and
tinsel, faded out, and another shaped itself, solemn
and beautiful in the altar light.

"My dear child, I thank you very much!" The old
rector held Betty's hand in both his. " I cannot have
a Christmas morning service — our people have too
much to do to come then — but I was especially anxious
that our evening service should have some message,
some inspiration for them, and your music has made it
so. You have given me great aid. May your Christ-
mas be a blessed one."

**I was glad to play, sir. Thank you!" answered
Betty, simply.

"Let's run!" she cried to Rosamond, and they raced
back to school.

She fell asleep that night without one smallest tear.

The next morning Betty dressed hastily, and catch-
ing up her mandolin, set out into the corridor.

Something swung against her hand as she opened the
door. It was a great bunch of holly, glossy green

172 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

leaves and glowing berries, and hidden in the leaves
a card :

"Betty, Merry Christmas," was all, but only one
girl wrote that dainty hand.

"A winter rose," whispered Betty, happily, and stuck
the bunch into the ribbon of her mandolin.

Down the corridor she ran until she faced a closed
door. Then, twanging her mandolin, she burst out
with all her power into a gay Christmas carol. High
and sweet sang her voice in the silent corridor all
through the gay carol. Then, sweeter still, it changed
into a Christmas hymn. Then from behind the closed
doors sounded voices:

" Merry Christmas, Betty Luther ! "

Then Constance O'Neill's deep, smooth alto flowed
into Betty's soprano; and at the last all nine girls
joined in "Adeste Fideles." Christmas morning be-
gan with music and laughter.

"This is your place, Betty. You are lord of Christ-
mas morning."

Betty stood, blushing, red as the holly in her hand,
before the breakfast table. Miss Hyle, the teacher
at the head of the table, had given up her place.

The breakfast was a merry one. After it somebody
suggested that they all go skating on the pond.

Betty hesitated and glanced at Miss Hyle and Miss
Thrasher, the two sad-looking teachers.

She approached them and said, "Won't you come
skating, too?"

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 173

Miss Thrasher, hardly older than Betty herself,
and pretty in a white frightened way, refused, but al-
most cheerfully. " I have a Christmas box to open and
Christmas letters to write. Thank you very much."

Betty's heart sank as she saw Miss Kyle's face.
" Goodness, she's coming! "

Miss Hyle was the most unpopular teacher in school.
Neither ill-tempered nor harsh, she was so cold, remote
and rigid in face, voice, and manner that the warmest
blooded shivered away from her, the least sensitive
shrank.

"I have no skates, but I should like to borrow a pair
to learn, if I may. I have never tried," she said.

The tragedies of a beginner on skates are to the
observers, especially if such be school-girls, subjects
for unalloyed mirth. The nine girls choked and turned
their backs and even giggled aloud as Miss Hyle went
prone, now backward with a whack, now forward in a
limp crumple.

But amusement became admiration. Miss Hyle
stumbled, fell, laughed merrily, scrambled up, struck
out, and skated. Presently she was swinging up the
pond in stroke with Betty and Eleanor O'Neill.

•'Miss Hyle, you're great!" cried Betty, at the
end of the morning. "I've taught dozens and scores
to skate, but never anybody like you. You've a genius
for skating."

Miss Hyle's blue eyes shot a sudden flash at Betty
that made her whole severe face light up.

174 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"I've never had a chance to learn — at home there
never is any ice — but I have always been athletic."

"Where is your home, Miss Hyle? " asked Betty.

"Cawnpore, India."

"India?" gasped Eleanor. "How delightful! Oh,
won't you tell us about it, Miss Hyle? "

So it was that Miss Hyle found herself talking about
something besides triangles to girls who really wanted
to hear, and so it was that the flash came often into
her eyes.

"I have had a happy morning, thank you, Betty —
and all," She said it very simply, yet a quick throb
of pity and liking beat in Betty's heart.

"How stupid we are about judging people!" she
thought. Yet Betty had always prided herself on
her character-reading.

"Hurrah, the mail and express are in!" The girls
ran excitedly to their rooms.

Betty alone went to hers without interest. "Why,
Hilma, what's happened?"

The little round-faced Swedish maid mopped the
big tears with her duster, and choked out :

"Nothings, ma'am!"

" Of course there is ! You're crying like everything. "

Hilma wept aloud. " Christmas Day it is, and mine
family and mine friends have party, now, all day."

"Where?"

Hilma jerked her head toward the window.

"Oh, you mean in town? Why can't you go?"

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 175

" I work. And never before am I from home Christ-
mas day."

Betty shivered.

"Never before am / from home Christmas day,"
she whispered.

She went close to the girl, very tall and slim and
bright beside the dmnpy, flaxen Hilma.

"What work do you do?"

"The cook, he cooks the dinner and the supper; I
put it on and wait it on the young ladies and wash the
dishes. The others all are gone."

Betty laughed suddenly. "Hilma, go put on your
best clothes, quick, and go down to your party. I'm
going to do your work."

Hilma's eyes rounded with amazement. "The cook,
he be mad."

"No, he won't. He won't care whether it's Hilma
or Betty, if things get done all right. I know how to
wait on table and wash dishes. There's no house-
keeper here to object. Run along, Hilma; be back by
nine o'clock — and — Merry Christmas!"

Hilma's face beamed through her tears. She was
speechless with joy, but she seized Betty's slim brown
hand and kissed it loudly.

"What larks!" "Is it a joke?" "Betty, you're the
handsomest butler ! "

Betty, in a white shirt-waist suit, a jolly red bow
pinned on her white apron, and a little cap cocked on
her dark hair, waved them to their seats at the holly-

176 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES
decked table. "Merry Christmas! Merry Christ-

mas!"

"Nobody is ill, Betty?" Rosamond asked, anxiously.

" If I had three guesses, I should use every one that
our maid wanted to go into town for the day, and
Betty took her place." It was Miss Kyle's calm voice.

Betty blushed. It was her turn now to flash back
a glance; and those two sparks kindled the fire of
friendship.

It was a jolly Christmas dinner, with the "butler"
eating with the family.

"And now the dishes!" thought Betty. It must be
admitted the "washing up" after a Christmas dinner
of twelve is not a subject for much joy.

"I propose we all help Betty wash the dishes!"
cried Rosamond Howitt.

Out in the kitchen every one laughed and talked and
got in the way, and had a good time; and if the milk
pitcher was knocked on the floor and the pudding bowl
emptied in Betty's lap — why, it was all "Merry
Christmas."

After that they all skated again. When they came
in, little Miss Thrasher, looking almost gay in a rose-
red gown, met them in the corridor.

"I thought it would be fun," she said, shyly, "to
have supper in my room. I have a big box from home.
I couldn't possible eat all the things myself, and if
you'll bring chafing-dishes and spoons, and those
things, I'll cook it, and we can sit round my open fire."

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 177

Miss Thrasher's room was homelike, with its fire
of white-birch and its easy chairs*, and Miss Thrasher
herself proved to be a pleasant hostess.

After supper Miss Kyle told a tale of India, Miss
Thrasher gave a Rocky momitain adventure, and the
girls contributed ghost and burglar stories till each
guest was in a thrill of delightful horror.

"We've had really a fine day!"

"I expected to die of homesickness, but it's been
joUy!"

"So did I, but I have actually been happy."

Thus the girls commented as they started for
bed.

"I have enjoyed my day," said httle Miss Thrasher,
"very much."

"Yes, indeed, it's been a merry Christmas." Miss
Hyle spoke almost eagerly.

Betty gave a little jump; she realized each one o^
them was holding her hand and pressing it a little.^
"Thank you, it's been a lovely evening. Good-
night."

Rosamond had invited Betty to share her room-
mate's bed, but both girls were too tired and sleepy
for any confidence.

"It's been the queerest Christmas!" thought Betty,
as she drifted toward sleep. "Why, I haven't given
one single soul one single present! "

Yet she smiled, drowsily happy, and then the room
seemed to fill with a bright, warm light, and round the

178 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

bed there danced a great Christmas wreath, made up
of the faces of the three O'Neills, and the thin old
rector, with his white hair, and pretty Rosamond,
and frightened Miss Thrasher and the homesick girls,
and lonely Miss Hyle, and tear-dimmed Hilma.

And all the faces smiled and nodded, and called,
^' Merry Christmas, Betty, Merry Christmas!"

xrx

OLD FATHER CHRISTMAS

J. H. EWING

THE custom of Christmas-trees came from Ger-
many. I can remember when they were first in-
troduced into England, and what wonderful things we
thought them. Now, every village school has its tree,
and the scholars openly discuss whether the presents
have been 'good,' or 'mean,' as compared with other
trees in former years. The first one that I ever saw I
believed to have come from Good Father Christmas
himself; but little boys have grown too wise now to be
taken in for their own amusement. They are not
excited by secret and mysterious preparations in the
back drawing-room ; they hardly confess to the thrill —
which I feel to this day — when the folding doors are
thrown open, and amid the blaze of tapers, mamma,
like a Fate, advtnces with her scissors to give every
one what falls to his lot.

"Well, young people, when I was eight years old I
had not seen a Christmas-tree, and the first picture of
one I ever saw was the picture of that held by Old
Father Christmas in my godmother's picture-book.

" *VVhat are those things on the tree?' I a^ked.

179

i8o CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

" ' Candles,' said my father.

"'No, father, not the candles; the other things?'

" ' Those are toys, my son.'

" 'Are they ever taken off?'

" ' Yes, they are taken off, and given to the children
who stand around the tree.'

"Patty and I grasped each other by the hand, and
with one voice murmured, 'How kind of Old Father
Christmas!'

" By and by I asked, 'How old is Father Christmas? '

"My father laughed, and said, 'One thousand eight
hundred and thirty years, child,' which was then the
year of our Lord, and thus one thousand eight hundred
and thirty years since the first great Christmas Day.

'"He looks very old,' whispered Patty.

"And I, who was, for my age, what Kitty called
'Bible-learned,' said thoughtfully, and with some puz-
zledness of mind, 'Then he's older than Methuselah.'

"But my father had left the room, and did not hear
my difficulty.

"November and December went by, and still the
picture-book kept all its charm for Patty and me; and
we pondered on and loved Old Father Christmas as
children can love and realize a fancy friend. To those
who remember the fancies of their childhood I need
say no more.

"Christmas week came, Christmas Eve came. My
father and mother were mysteriously and unaccount-
ably busy in the parlour (we had only one parlour).

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES i8i

and Patty and I were not allowed to go in. We went
into the kitchen, but even here was no place of rest for
us. Kitty was 'all over the place,' as she phrased it,
and cakes, mince pies, and puddings were with her.
As she justly observed, 'There was no place there for
children and books to sit with their toes in the fire, when
a body wanted to be at the oven all along. The cat
was enough for her temper,' she added.

"As to puss, who obstinately refused to take a hint
which drove her out into the Christmas frost, she
returned again and again with soft steps, and a stupid-
ity that was, I think, affected, to the warm hearth,
only to fly at intervals, like a football, before Kitty's
hasty slipper.

*' We had more sense, or less courage. We bowed to
Kitty's behests, and went to the back door.

"Patty and I were hardy children, and accustomed
to 'run out' in all weathers, without much extra wrap-
ping up. We put Kitty's shawl over our two heads,
and went outside. I rather hoped to see something of
Dick, for it was holiday time; but no Dick passed.
He was busy helping his father to bore holes in the
carved seats of the church, which were to hold sprigs
of holly for the morrow — that was the idea of church
decoration in my young days. You have improved on
your elders there, young people, and I am candid enough
to allow it. Still, the sprigs of red and green were better
than nothing, and, like your lovely wreaths and pious
devices, they made one feel as if the old black wood

i82 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

were bursting into life and leaf again for very Christ'
mas joy; and, if only one knelt carefully, they did not
scratch his nose.

"Well, Dick was busy, and not to be seen. We ran
across the little yard and looked over the wall at the
end to see if we could see anything or anybody. From
this point there was a pleasant meadow field sloping
prettily away to a little hill about three quarters of a
mile distant; which, catching some fine breezes from
the moors beyond, was held to be a place of cure for
whooping-cough, or kincough, as it was vulgarly called.
Up to the top of this Kitty had dragged me, and carried
Patty, when we were recovering from the complaint, as
I well remember. It was the only 'change of air' we
could afford, and I dare say it did as well as if we had
gone into badly drained lodgings at the seaside.

"This hill was now covered with snow and stood off
against the gray sky. The white fields looked vast
and dreary in the dusk. The only gay things to be
seen were the berries on the holly hedge, in the little
lane — which, running by the end of our back-yard,
led up to the Hall — and the fat robin, that was staring
at me. I was looking at the robin, when Patty, who
had been peering out of her comer of Kitty's shawl,
gave a great jump that dragged the shawl from our
heads, and cried:

"'Look!'

"I looked. An old man was coming along the lane.
His hair and beard were as white as cotton-wool. He

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 183

had a face like the sort of apple that keeps well in win-
ter ; his coat was old and brown. There was snow about
him in patches, and he carried a small fir-tree.

"The same conviction seized upon us both. With
one breath, we exclaimed, '//'5 Old Father Christ-
mas!^

" I know now that it was only an old man of the place,
with whom we did not happen to be acquainted and
that he was taking a little fir-tree up to the Hall, to be
made into a Christmas-tree. He was a very good-
humoured old fellow, and rather deaf, for which he made
up by smiling and nodding his head a good deal, and
saying, ^aye, aye, to be sure!' at likely intervals.

"As he passed us and met our earnest gaze, he smiled
and nodded so earnestly that I was bold enough to
cry, 'Good-evening, Father Christmas!'

" * Same to you ! ' said he, in a high-pitched voice.

"'Then you are Father Christmas?' said Patty.

"'And a happy New Year,' was Father Christmas's
reply, which rather put me out. But he smiled in such
a satisfactory manner that Patty went on, 'You're
very old, aren't you? '

"'So I be, miss, so I be,' said Father Christmas,
nodding.

'"Father says you're eighteen hundred and thirty
years old,' I muttered.

"'Aye, aye, to be sure,' said Father Christmas.
*I'm a long age.'

"A very long age, thought I, and I added, 'You're

i84 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

nearly twice as old as Methuselah, you know, ' thinking
that this might have struck him.

"'Aye, aye,' said Father Christmas; but he did not
seem to think anything of it. After a pause he held
up the tree, and cried, 'D 'ye know what this is, little
miss?'

" * A Christmas-tree,' said Patty.

"And the old man smiled and nodded.

"I leant over the wall, and shouted, 'But there are
no candles.'

"*By and by,' said Father Christmas, nodding as
before. *When it's dark they'll all be lighted up.
That'll be a fine sight!'

"'Toys, too, there'll be, won't there?' said
Patty.

' ' Father Christmas nodded his head . 'And sweeties,*
he added, expressively.

"I could feel Patty trembling, and my own heart
beat fast. The thought which agitated us both was
this: 'Was Father Christmas bringing the tree to us?*
But very anxiety, and some modesty also, kept us
from asking outright.

"Only when the old man shouldered his tree, and
prepared to move on, I cried in despair, 'Oh, are you
going?'

" 'I'm coming back by and by,' said he.

" 'How soon? ' cried Patty.

" 'About four o'clock,' said the old man smiling.
'I'm only going up yonder.'

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 185

"And, nodding and smiling as he went, he passed
away down the lane.

"'Up yonder!' This puzzled us. Father Christmas
had pointed, but so indefinitely that he might have
been pointing to the sky, or the fields, or the little wood
at the end of the Squire's grounds. I thought the
latter, and suggested to Patty that perhaps he had some
place underground like Aladdin's cave, where he got
the candles, and all the pretty things for the tree. This
idea pleased us both, and we amused ourselves by won-
dering what Old Father Christmas would choose for us
from his stores in that wonderful hole where he dressed
his Christmas-trees.

"'I wonder, Patty,' said I, 'why there's no picture
of Father Christmas's dog in the book.' For at the
old man's heels in the lane there crept a little brown and
white spaniel looking very dirty in the snow.

"'Perhaps it's a new dog that he's got to take care
of his cave,' said Patty.

"When we went indoors we examined the picture
afresh by the dim light from the passage window,
but there was no dog there.

" My father passed us at this moment, and patted my
head. 'Father,' said I, 'I don't know, but I do think
Old Father Christmas is going to bring us a Christmas-
tree to-night.'

"'Who's been telling you that?' said my father.
But he passed on before I could explain that we had seen
Father Christmas himself, and had had his word for

i86 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

it that he would return at four o'clock, and that the
candles on his tree would be lighted as soon as it
was dark.

''We hovered on the outskirts of the rooms till four
o'clock came. We sat on the stairs and watched the
big clock, which I was just learning to read; and Patty
made herself giddy with constantly looking up and
counting the four strokes, toward which the hour hand
slowly moved. We put our noses into the kitchen now
and then, to smell the cakes and get warm, and anon we
hung about the parlour door, and were most unjustly
accused of trying to peep. What did we care what our
mother was doing in the parlour? — we, who had seen
Old Father Christmas himself, and were expecting him
back again every moment!

"At last the church clock struck. The sounds boomed
heavily through the frost, and Patty thought there
were four of them. Then, after due choking and whir-
ring, our own clock struck, and we counted the strokes
quite clearly — one ! two ! three ! four ! Then we got
Kitty's shawl once more, and stole out into the back-
yard. We ran to our old place, and peeped, but could
see nothing.

" ' We'd better get up on to the wall,' I said; and with
some difficulty and distress from rubbing her bare knees
against the cold stone, and getting the snow up her
sleeves, Patty got on to the coping of the little wall. I
was just struggling after her, when something warm and
something cold coming suddenly against the bare calves

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 187

of my legs made me shriek with fright. I came down
'with a run' and bruised my knees, my elbows, and my
chin; and the snow that hadn't gone up Patty's sleeves
went down my neck. Then I found that the cold
thing was a dog's nose and the warm thing was his
tongue; and Patty cried from her post of observation,
'It's Father Christmas's dog and he's licking your
legs. '

" It really was the dirty little brown and white spaniel ,
and he persisted in licking me, and jumping on me, and
making curious little noises, that must have meant
something if one had known his language. I was rather
harassed at the moment. My legs were sore, I was a
little afraid of the dog, and Patty was very much afraid
of sitting on the wall without me.

"'You won't fall,' I said to her. 'Get down, will
you?' I said to the dog.

" 'Humpty Dumpty fell off a wall,' said Patty.

" 'Bow! wow!' said the dog.

"I pulled Patty down, and the dog tried to pull me
down; but when my little sister was on her feet, to my
relief, he transferred his attentions to her. When he
had jumped at her, and licked her several times, he
turned around and ran away.

" 'He's gone,' said I; T'm so glad.'

"But even as I spoke he was back again, crouching
at Patty's feet, and glaring at her with eyes the colour
of his ears.

"Now, Patty was very fond of animals, and when the

i88 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

dog looked at her she looked at the dog, and then
she said to me, 'He wants us to go with him/

"On which (as if he utiderstood our language, though
we were ignorant of his) the spaniel sprang away, and
went off as hard as he could; and Patty and I went after
him, a dim hope crossing my mind — 'Perhaps Father
Christmas has sent him for us.'

"The idea was rather favoured by the fact he
led us up the lane. Only a little way; then he stopped
by something lying in the ditch — and once more
we cried in the same breath, 'It's Old Father Christ-
mas!'

"Returning from the Hall, the old man had slipped
upon a bit of ice, and lay stunned in the snow.

"Patty began to cry. *I think he's dead!' she
sobbed.

" 'He is so very old, I don't wonder,' I murmured;
'but perhaps he's not. I'll fetch father.'

" My father and Kitty were soon on the spot. Kitty
was as strong as a man; and they carried Father Christ-
mas between them into the kitchen. There he quickly
revived.

" I must do Kitty the justice to say that she did not
utter a word of complaint at the disturbance of her
labours; and that she drew the old man's chair close
up to the oven with her own hand. She was so much
affected by the behaviour of his dog that she admitted
him even to the hearth; on which puss, being acute
enough to see how matters stood, lay down with her

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 189

back so close to the spaniel's that Kitty could not
expel one without kicking both.

"For our parts, we felt sadly anxious about the tree;
otherwise we could have wished for no better treat
than to sit at Kitty's round table taking tea with Father
Christmas. Our usual fare of thick bread and treacle
was to-night exchanged for a delicious variety of cakes,
which were none the worse to us for being 'tasters and
wasters' — that is, little bits of dough, or shortbread,
put in to try the state of the oven, and certain cakes
that had got broken or burnt in the baking.

" Well, there we sat, helping Old Father Christmas
to tea and cake, and wondering in our hearts what could
have become of the tree.

"Patty and I felt a dehcacy in asking Old Father
Christmas about the tree. It was not until we had had
tea three times round, with tasters and wasters to
match, that Patty said very gently: *It's quite dark
now.' And then she heaved a deep sigh.

"Burning anxiety overcame me. I leaned toward
Father Christmas, and shouted — I had found out that
it was needful to shout

" 'I suppose the candles are on the tree now?'

"'Just about putting of 'em on,' said Father Christ-
mas.

"'And the presents, too?' said Patty.

" 'Aye, aye, to be sure,' said Father Christmas, and
he smiled delightfully.

"I was thinking what further questions I mighf

I90 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

venture upon, when he pushed his cup toward Patty
saying, 'Since you are so pressing, miss, I'll take
another dish.'

"And Kitty, swooping on us from the oven, cried,
'Make yourself at home, sir; there's more where these
came from. Make a long arm, Miss Patty, and hand
them cakes.'

"So we had to devote ourselves to the duties of the
table; and Patty, holding the Hd with one hand and
pouring with the other, supplied Father Christmas's
wants with a heavy heart.

"At last he was satisfied. I said grace, during which
he stood, and, indeed, he stood for some time after-
ward with his eyes shut — I fancy under the impression
that I was still speaking. He had just said a fervent
'amen,' and reseated himself, when my father put his
head into the kitchen, and made this remarkable
statement :

" 'Old Father Christmas has sent a tree to the young
people.'

"Patty and I uttered a cry of delight, and we forth-
with danced round the old man, saying, 'How nicei
Oh, how kind of you!' which I think must have bewil-
dered him, but he only smiled and nodded.

"'Come along,' said my father. 'Come, children.
Come, Reuben. Come, Kitty.'

"And he went into the parlour, and we all followed
him.

"My godmother's picture of a Christmas-tree was

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 191

very pretty; and the flames of the candles were so nat-
urally done in red and yellow that I always wondered
that they did not shine at night. But the picture was
nothing to the reality. We had been sitting almost in
the dark, for, as Kitty said, 'Firelight was quite enough
to burn at meal- times.' And when the parlour door
was thrown open, and the tree, with lighted tapers on
all the branches, burst upon our view, the blaze was
dazzling, and threw such a glory round the little gifts,
and the bags of coloured muslin, with acid drops and
pink rose drops and comfits inside, as I shall never
forget. We all got something; and Patty and I, at any
rate, believed that the things came from the stores of
Old Father Christmas. We were not undeceived even
by his gratefully accepting a bundle of old clothes
which had been hastily put together to form his present.

"We were all very happy; even Kitty, I think, though
she kept her sleeves rolled up, and seemed rather to
grudge enjoying herself (a weak point in some energetic
characters). She went back to her oven before the lights
were out and the angel on the top of the tree taken
down. She locked up her present (a little work-box) at
once. She often showed it off aftei^ward, but it was
kept in the same bit of tissue paper till she died. Our
presents certainly did not last so long !

"The old man died about a week afterward, so we
never made his acquaintance as a common personage.
When he was buried, his little dog came to us. I
suppose he remembered the hospitality he had received.

192 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Patty adopted him, and he was very faithful. Puss
always looked on him with favour. I hoped during our
rambles together in the following summer that he would
lead us at last to the cave where Christmas-trees are
dressed. But he never did.

"Our parents often spoke of his late master as *old
Reuben,' but children are not easily disabused of a
favourite fancy, and in Patty's thoughts and in mine
the old man was long gratefully remembered as Old
Father Christmas."

XX

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

CHARLES DICKENS

MASTER Peter, and the two ubiquitous young
Cratchits went to fetch the goose, with which
they soon returned in high procession.

Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a
goose the rarest of all birds; a feathered phenomenon, to
which a black swan was a matter of course — and in
truth it was something very like it in that house. Mrs.
Cratchit made the gravy (ready beforehand in a little
saucepan) hissing hot; Master Peter mashed the pota-
toes with incredible vigour; Miss Belinda sweetened up
the apple-sauce; Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob
took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table ;
the two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody, not
forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their
posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they
should shriek for goose before their turn came to be
helped. At last the dishes were set on, and grace was
said. It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs.
Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving-knife,
prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when she did,
and when the long expected gush of stufhng issued
forth, one murmur of dehght arose all round the board,
and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratch-

193

194 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

its, beat on the table with the handle of his knife, and
feebly cried Hurrah!

There never was such a goose. Bob said he didn't
believe there ever was such a goose cooked. Its tender-
ness and flavour, size and cheapness, were the themes of
universal admiration. Eked out by the apple-sauce
and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for
the whole family; indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with
great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon
the dish), they hadn't ate it all at last! Yet every one
had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in parti-
cular, were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows!
But now, the plates being changed by Miss Belinda,
Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone — too nervous to bear
witnesses — to take the pudding up and bring it in.

Suppose it should not be done enough! Suppose it
should break in turning out. Suppose somebody should
have got over the wall of the back-yard and stolen it,
while they were merry with the goose — a supposition
at which the two young Cratchits became livid! All
sorts of horrors were supposed.

Hallo! A great deal of steam! The pudding was
out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day ! That
was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house and a
pastrycook's next door to each other, with a laundress's
next door to that! That was the pudding! In half a
minute Mrs. Cratchit entered — flushed, but smiling
proudly — with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball,
so hard and firm, blazing in half of half-a-quartern of

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 195

ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly
stuck into the top.

Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and
calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success
achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs.
Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind,
she would confess she had had her doubts about the
quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say
about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a
small pudding for a large family. It would have been
flat heresy to do so. Any Cratchit would have blushed
to hint at such a thing.

At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared,
the hearth sv/ept, and the fire made up. The com-
pound in the jug being tasted, and considered perfect,
apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a
shovel-full of chestnuts on the fire. Then all the Crat-
chit family drew round the hearth, in what Bob
Cratchit caUed a circle, meaning half a one; and at Bob
Cratchit's elbow stood the family display of glasses.
Two tumblers, and a custard-cup without a handle.

These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as
well as golden goblets would have done ; and Bob served
it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the
fire sputtered and cracked noisily. Then Bob proposed:

" A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless
us!"

Which all the family re-echoed.

"God bless us everyone !" said Tiny Tim, the last of all.

XXI

HOW CHRISTMAS CAME .TO THE SANTA
MARIA FLATS*

ELIA W. PEATTIE

THERE were twenty-six flat children, and none
of them had ever been flat children until that
year. Previously they had all been home children,
and as such had, of course, had beautiful Christmases,
in which their relations with Santa Claus had been of
the most intimate and personal nature.

Now, owing to their residence in the Santa Maria
flats, and the Lease, all was changed. The Lease was
a strange forbiddance, a ukase issued by a tyrant,
which took from children their natural liberties and
rights.

Though, to be sure — as every one of the flat children
knew — they were in the greatest kind of luck to be
allowed to live at all, and especially were they fortunate
past the lot of children to be permitted to live in a flat.
There were many flats in the great city, so polished
and carved and burnished and be-lackeyed that
children were not allowed to enter within the portals,
save on visits of ceremony in charge of parents or

*From "Ickery Ann and Other Girls and Boys," by Elia W. Peattie.
Copyright, 1898, by Herbert S. Stone & Co., Dufi&eld & Co., successors.

196

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 197

governesses. And in one flat, where Cecil de Koven
le Baron was born — just by accident and without
intending any harm — he was evicted, along with his
parents, by the time he reached the age where he
seemed likely to be graduated from the go-cart. And
yet that flat had not nearly so imposing a name as
the Santa Maria.

The twenty-six children of the Santa Maria flats
belonged to twenty families. All of these twenty
families were peculiar, as you might learn any day
by interviewing the famihes concerning one another.
But they bore with each other's peculiarities quite
cheerfully and spoke in the hall when they met. Some-
times this tolerance would even extend to conversation
about the janitor, a thin creature who did the work of
five men. The ladies complained that he never smiled.

"I wouldn't so much mind the hot water pipes
leaking now and then," the ladies would remark in the
vestibule, rustling their skirts to show that they wore
silk petticoats, "if only the janitor would smile. But
he looks like a cemetery."

"I know it," would be the response. "I told Mr.
Wilberforce last night that if he would only get a
cheerful janitor I wouldn't mind our having rubber
instead of Axminster on the stairs."

"You know we were promised Axminster when we
moved in," would be the plaintive response. The
ladies would stand together for a moment wrapped in
gloomy reflection, and then part.

198 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

The kitchen and nurse maids felt on the subject, too.

"If Carl Carlsen would only smile," they used to
exclaim in sibilant whispers, as they passed on the
way to the laundry. "If he'd come in an' joke while
we wus washin'!"

Only Kara Johnson never said anything on the sub-
ject because she knew why Carlsen didn't smile, and
was sorry for it, and would have made it all right —
if it hadn't been for Lars Larsen.

Dear, dear, but this is a digression from the subject of
the Lease. That terrible document was held over the
heads of the children as the Herodian pronunciamento
concerning small boys was over the heads of the Is-
raelites.

It was in the Lease not to run — not to jump — not
to yell. It was in the Lease not to sing in the halls,
not to call from story to story, not to slide down the
banisters. And there were blocks of banisters so
smooth and wide and beautiful that the attraction
between them and the seats of the little boy's trousers
was like the attraction of a magnet for a nail. Yet
not a leg, crooked or straight, fat or thin, was ever to
be thrown over these polished surfaces!

It was in the Lease, too, that no peddler or agent,
or suspicious stranger was to enter the Santa Maria,
neither by the front door nor the back. The janitor
stood in his uniform at the rear, and the lackey in his
uniform at the front, to prevent any such intrusion
upon the privacy of the aristocratic Santa Marias.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 199

The lackey, who poHtely directed people, and summoned
elevators, and whistled up tubes and rang bells, thus
conducting the complex social life of those favoured
apartments, was not one to make a mistake, and admit
any person not calculated to ornament the front par-
lours of the flatters.

It was this that worried the children.

For how could such a dear, disorderly, democratic
rascal as the children's saint ever hope to gain a pass
to that exclusive entrance and get up to the rooms
of the flat children?

"You can see for yourself," said Ernest, who lived
on the first floor, to Roderick who lived on the fourth,
"that if Santa Claus can't get up the front stairs,
and can't get up the back stairs, that all he can do is
to come down the chimney. And he can't come down
the chimney — at least, he can't get out of the fire-
place."

"Why not?" asked Roderick, who was busy with an
"all-day sucker" and not inclined to take a gloomy
view of anything.

"Goosey!" cried Ernest, in great disdain. "I'll
show you!" and he led Roderick, with his sucker,
right into the best parlour, where the fireplace was,
and showed him an awful thing.

Of course, to the ordinary observer, there was nothing
awful about the fireplace. Everything in the way
of bric-a-brac possessed by the Santa Maria flatters
was artistic. It may have been in the Lease that only

200 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

people with aesthetic tastes were to be admitted to
the apartments. However that may be, the fireplace,
with its vases and pictures and trinkets, was something
quite wonderful. Indian incense burned in a myste-
rious little dish, pictures of purple ladies were hung in
odd corners, calendars in letters nobody could read,
served to decorate, if not to educate, and glass vases
of strange colours and extraordinary shapes stood about
filled with roses. None of these things were awful.
At least no one would have dared say they were.
But what was awful was the formation of the grate.

It was not a hospitable place with andirons, where
noble logs of wood could be laid for the burning, nor
did it have a generous iron basket where honest anthra-
cite could glow away into the nights. Not a bit of
it. It held a vertical plate of stuff that looked like
dirty cotton wool, on which a tiny blue flame leaped
when the gas was turned on and ignited.

"You can see for yourself!" said Ernest tragically.

Roderick could see for himself. There was an inch-
wide opening down which the Friend of the Children
could squeeze himself, and, as everybody knows, he
needs a good deal of room now, for he has grown portly
with age, and his pack every year becomes bigger,
owing to the ever-increasing number of girls and boys
he has to supply

"Gimini!" said Roderick, and dropped his all-day
sucker on the old Bokara rug that Ernest's mamma
had bought the week before at a fashionable furnishing

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 201

shop, and which had given the sore throat to all the
family, owing to some cunning little germs that had
come over with the rug to see what American throats
were like.

Oh, me, yes! but Roderick could see! Anybody
could see ! And a boy could see better than anybody.

"Let's go see the Telephone Boy," said Roderick.
This seemed the wisest thing to do. When in doubt,
all the children went to the Telephone Boy, who was
the most fascinating person, with knowledge of the
most wonderful kind and of a nature to throw that of
Mrs. Scheherazade quite, quite in the shade — which,
considering how long that loquacious lady had been
a Shade, is perhaps not surprising.

The Telephone Boy knew the answers to all the
conundrums in the world, and a way out of nearly all
troubles such as are likely to overtake boys and girls.
But now he had no suggestions to offer and could speak
no comfortable words.

"He can't git inter de frunt, an' he can't git inter de
back, an' he can 't come down no chimney in dis here
house, an' I tell yer dose," he said, and shut his mouth
grimly, while cold apprehension crept around Ernest's
heart and took the sweetness out of Roderick's
sucker.

Nevertheless, hope springs eternal, and the boys
each and individually asked their fathers — tremend-
ously wise and good men — if they thought there was
any hope that Santa Glaus would get into the Santa

202 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Maria flats, and each of the fathers looked up from his
paper and said he'd be blessed if he did!

And the words sunk deep and deep and drew the
tears when the doors were closed and the soft black
was all about and nobody could laugh because a boy-
was found crying! The girls cried too — for the awful
news was whistled up tubes and whistled down tubes,
till all the twenty-six flat children knew about it.
The next day it was talked over in the brick court,
where the children used to go to shout and race. But
on this day there was neither shouting nor racing.
There was, instead, a shaking of heads, a surreptitious
dropping of tears, a guessing and protesting and lament-
ing. All the flat mothers congratulated themselves
on the fact that their children were becoming so quiet
and orderly, and wondered what could have come over
them when they noted that they neglected to run aftei
the patrol wagon as it whizzed round the block.

It was decided, after a solenm talk, that every child
should go to its own fireplace and investigate. In the
event of any fireplace being found with an opening
big enough to admit Santa Glaus, a note could be left
directing him along the halls to the other apartments.
A spirit of universal brotherhood had taken posses-
sion of the Santa Maria flatters. Misery bound them
together. But the investigation proved to be dis-
heartening. The cruel asbestos grates were every-
where. Hope lay strangled !

As time went on, melancholy settled upon the flat

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 203

children. The parents noted it, and wondered if there
could be sewer gas in the apartments. One over-anxious
mother called in a physician, who gave the poor little
child some medicine which made it quite ill. No one
suspected the truth, though the children were often
heard to say that it was evident that there was to
be no Christmas for them! But then, what more
natural for a child to say, thus hoping to win protesta-
tions — so the mothers reasoned, and let the remark
pass.

The day before Christmas was gray and dismal.
There was no wind — indeed, there was a sort of tight-
ness in the air, as if the supply of freshness had given
out. People had headaches — even the Telephone
Boy was cross — and none of the spirit of the time ap-
peared to enliven the flat children. There appeared to
be no stir — no mystery. No whisperings went on
in the corners — or at least, so it seemed to the sad
babies of the Santa Maria.

"It's as plain as a monkey on a hand-organ," said
the Telephone Boy to the attendants at his salon in
the basement, "that there ain't to be no Christmas for
we — no, not for we ! "

Had not Dorothy produced, at this junction, from
the folds of her fluffy silken skirts several substantial
sticks of gum, there is no saying to what depths of
discouragement the flat children would have fallen !

About six o'clock it seemed as if the children would
smother for lack of air! It was very peculiar. Even

204 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

the janitor noticed it. He spoke about it to Kara at
the head of the back stairs, and she held her hand so as
to let him see the new silver ring on her fourth finger,
and he let go of the rope on the elevator on which he
was standing and dropped to the bottom of the shaft,
so that Kara sent up a wild hallo of alarm. But the
janitor emerged as melancholy and unruffled as ever,
only looking at his watch to see if it had been stopped
by the concussion.

The Telephone Boy, who usually got a bit of some-
thing hot sent down to him from one of the tables, owing
to the fact that he never ate any meal save breakfast at
home, was quite forgotten on this day, and dined off two
russet apples, and drew up his belt to stop the ache —
for the Telephone Boy was growing very fast indeed, in
spite of his poverty, and couldn't seem to stop growing
somehow, although he said to himself every day that
it was perfectly brutal of him to keep on that way when
his mother had so many mouths to feed.

Well, well, the tightness of the air got worse. Every
one was cross at dinner and complained of feeling tired
afterward, and of wanting to go to bed. For all of
that it was not to get to sleep, and the children tossed
and tumbled for a long time before they put their
little hands in the big, soft shadowy clasp of the Sand-
man, and trooped away after him to the happy town
of sleep.

It seemed to the flat children that they had been
asleep but a few moments when there came a terrible

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 205

burst of wind that shook even that great house to
its foundations. Actually, as they sat up in bed and
called to their parents or their nurses, their voices
seemed smothered with roar. Could it be that the
wind was a great wild beast with a hundred tongues
which licked at the roof of the building? And how
many voices must it have to bellow as it did?

Sounds of falling glass, of breaking shutters, of
crashing chimneys greeted their ears — not that they
knew what all these sounds meant. They only knew
that it seemed as if the end of the world had come.
Ernest, miserable as he was, wondered if the Telephone
Boy had gotten safely home, or if he were alone in the
draughty room in the basement; and Roderick hugged
his big brother, who slept with him and said, "Now
I lay me," three times running, as fast as ever his tongue
would say it.

After a terrible time the wind settled down into
a steady howl like a hungry wolf, and the children went
to sleep, worn out with fright and conscious that the
bedclothes could not keep out the cold.

Dawn came. The children awoke, shivering. They
sat up in bed and looked about them — yes, they did,
the whole twenty-six of them in their different apart-
ments and their different homes.

And what do you suppose they saw — what do you
suppose the twenty-six flat children saw as they looked
about them?

Why, stockings, stuffed full, and trees hung full,

^o6 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

and boxes packed full ! Yes, they did ! It was Christ-
mas morning, and the bells were ringing, and all the
little flat children were laughing, for Santa Claus had
come! He had really come! In the wind and wild
weather, while the tongues of the wind licked hungrily
at the roof, while the wind howled like a hungry wolf,
he had crept in somehow and laughing, no doubt, and
chuckling, without question, he had filled the stock-
ings and the trees and the boxes! Dear me, dear me,
but it was a happy time! It makes me out of breath
to think what a happy time it was, and how surprised
the flat children were, and how they wondered how it
could ever have happened.

But they found out, of course! It happened in the
simplest way ! Every skylight in the place was blown
off and away, and that was how the wind howled so,
and how the bedclothes would not keep the children
warm, and how Santa Claus got in. The wind cork-
screwed down into these holes, and the reckless children
with their drums and dolls, their guns and toy dishes,
danced around in the maelstrom and sang:

"Here's where Santa Claus came!

This is how he got in —
We should count it a sin

Yes, count it a shame,
If it hurt when he fell on the floor. "

Roderick's sister, who was clever for a child of her
age, and who had read Monte Cristo ten times, though

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 207

she was only eleven, wrote this poem, which every one
thought very fine.

And of course all the parents thought and said that
Santa Claus must have jumped down the skylights.
By noon there were other skylights put in, and not a
sign left of the way he made his entrance — not that
the way mattered a bit, no, not a bit.

Perhaps you think the Telephone Boy didn't get
anything! Maybe you imagine that Santa Claus
didn't get down that far. But you are mistaken.
The shaft below one of the skylights went away to the
bottom of the building, and it stands to reason that
the old fellow must have fallen way through. At any
rate there was a copy of "Tom Sawyer," and a whole
plum pudding, and a number of other things, more
useful but not so interesting, found down in the chilly
basement room. There were, indeed.

In closing it is only proper to mention that Kara
Johnson crocheted a white silk four-in-hand necktie for
Carl Carlsen, the janitor — and the janitor smiled!

XXII
THE LEGEND OF BABOUSCKA*

ADAPTED FROM THE RUSSIAN

IT WAS the night the dear Christ-Child came to
Bethlehem. In a country far away from Him, an
old, old woman named Babouscka sat in her snug little
house by her warm fire. The wind was drifting the
snow outside and howling down the chimney, but it
only made Babouscka's fire burn more brightly.

"How glad I am that I may stay indoors," said
Babouscka, holding her hands out to the bright blaze.

But suddenly she heard a loud rap at her door. She
opened it and her candle shone on three old men stand-
ing outside in the snow. Their beards were as white
as the snow, and so long that they reached the ground.
Their eyes shone kindly in the light of Babouscka's
candle, and their arms were full of precious things —
boxes of jewels, and sweet-smelling oils, and ointments.

"We have travelled far, Babouscka," they said,
"and we stop to tell you of the Baby Prince born this
night in Bethlehem. He comes to rule the world and
teach all men to be loving and true. We carry Him
gifts. Come with us, Babouscka."

♦From "The Children's Hour," published by the Milton Bradley Co.

208

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 209

But Babouscka looked at the drifting snow, and then
inside at her cozy room and the crackhng fire. "It
is too late for me to go with you, good sirs," she said,
'Hhe weather is too cold." She went inside again and
shut the door, and the old men journeyed on to Bethle-
hem without her. But as Babouscka sat by her fire,
rocking, she began to think about the little Christ-
Child, for she loved all babies.

"To-morrow I will go to find Him," she said;
" to-morrow, when it is light, and I will carry Him some
toys."

So when it was morning Babouscka put on her long
cloak and took her staff, and filled her basket with the
pretty things a baby would like — gold balls, and
wooden toys, and strings of silver cobwebs — and she
set out to find the Christ-Child.

But, oh, Babouscka had forgotten to ask the three
old men the road to Bethlehem, and they travelled
so far through the night that she could not overtake
them. Up and down the road she hurried, through
woods and fields and towns, saying to whomsoever
she met : " I go to find the Christ-Child. Where does
He lie? I bring some pretty toys for His sake."

But no one could tell her the way to go, and they all
said: "Farther on, Babouscka, farther on." So she
travelled on and on and on for years and years —
but she never found the little Christ-Child.

They say that old Babouscka is travelling still,
looking for Him. When it comes Christmas Eve, and

2IO CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

the children are lying fast asleep, Babouscka comes
softly through the snowy fields and towns, wrapped
in her long cloak and carrying her basket on her
arm. With her staff she raps gently at the doors
and goes inside and holds her candle close to the little
children's faces.

"Is He here?" she asks. "Is the little Christ-Child
here? " And then she turns sorrowfully away again, cry-
ing: "Farther on, farther on!" But before she leaves
she takes a toy from her basket and lays it beside the
pillow for a Christmas gift. "For His sake," she says
softly, and then hurries on through the years and for-
ever in search of the little Christ-Child.

XXIII
CHRISTMAS IN THE BARN*

F. ARNSTEIN

ONLY two more days and Christmas would be
here ! It had been snowing hard, and Johnny was
standing at the window, looking at the soft, white snow
which covered the ground half a foot deep. Presently
he heard the noise of wheels coming up the road, and
a wagon turned in at the gate and came past the window.
Johnny was very curious to know what the wagon could
be bringing. He pressed his little nose close to the
cold window pane, and to his great surprise, saw two
large Christmas-trees. Johnny wondered why there
were two trees, and turned quickly to run and tell
mamma all about it; but then remembered that mamma
was not at home. She had gone to the city to buy
some Christmas presents and would not return until
quite late. Johnny began to feel that his toes and fin-
gers had grown quite cold from standing at the window
so long; so he drew his own little chair up to the cheerful
grate fire and sat there quietly thinking. Pussy,
who had been curled up like a little bundle of wool,
in the very warmest corner, jumped up, and, going to

♦From "In the Child's World," by Emilie Poulssen, Milton Bradley Co.,
Publishers. Used by permission.

2IX

212 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Johnny, rubbed her head against his knee to attract
his attention. He patted her gently and began to talk
to her about what was in his thoughts.

He had been puzzling over the two trees which had
come, and at last had made up his mind about them. ' ' I
know now, Pussy," said he, "why there are two trees.
This morning when I kissed Papa good-bye at the gate
he said he was going to buy one for me, and mamma,
who was busy in the house, did not hear him say so;
and I am sure she must have bought the other. But
what shall we do with two Christmas-trees? "

Pussy jumped into his lap and purred and purred.
A plan suddenly flashed into Johnny's mind. " Would
you like to have one, Pussy?" Pussy purred more
loudly, and it seemed almost as though she had said
yes.

"Oh! I will, I will! if mamma will let me. I'll have
a Christmas-tree out in the bam for you. Pussy, and
for all the pets; and then you'll all be as happy as I
shall be with my tree in the parlour."

By this time it had grown quite late. There was a
ring at the door-bell; and quick as a flash Johnny ran,
with happy, smiling face, to meet papa and mamma and
gave them each a loving kiss. During the evening he
told them all that he had done that day and also about
the two big trees which the man had brought. It was
just as Johnny had thought. Papa and mamma had
each bought one, and as it was so near Christmas they
thought they would not send either of them back.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 213

Johnny was very glad of this, and told them of the
happy plan he had made and asked if he might have
the extra tree. Papa and mamma smiled a little as
Johnny explained his plan but they said he might have
the tree, and Johnny went to bed feeling very happy.

That night his papa fastened the tree into a block
of wood so that it would stand firmly and then set it
in the middle of the bam floor. The next day when
Johnny had finished his lessons he went to the kitchen,
and asked Annie, the cook, if she would save the bones
and potato parings and all other leavings from the
day's meals and give them to him the following morning.
He also begged her to give him several cupfuls of salt
and commeal, which she did, putting them in paper
bags for him. Then she gave him the dishes he asked
for — a few chipped ones not good enough to be used
at table — and an old wooden bowl. Annie wanted to
know what Johnny intended to do with all these things,
but he only said: "Wait until to-morrow, then you
shall see." He gathered up all the things which the
cook had given him and carried them to the barn,
placing them on a shelf in one corner, where he was
sure no one would touch them and where they would be
all ready for him to use the next morning.

Christmas morning came, and, as soon as he could,
Johnny hurried out to the barn, where stood the Christ-
mas-tree which he was going to trim for all his pets. The
first thing he did was to get a paper bag of oats; this
he tied to one of the branches of the tree, for Brownie

214 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

the marc. Then he made up several bundles of hay
and tied these on the other side of the tree, not quite
so high up, where White Face, the cow, could reach
them; and on the lowest branches some more hay for
Spotty, the calf.

Next Johnny hurried to the kitchen to get the
things Annie had promised to save for him. She had
plenty to give. With his arms and hands full he went
back to the barn. He found three ''lovely" bones
with plenty of meat on them; these he tied together
to another branch of the tree, for Rover, his big black
dog. Under the tree he placed the big wooden bowl,
and filled it well with potato parings, rice, and meat,
left from yesterday's dinner; this was the "full and
tempting trough" for Piggywig. Near this he placed
a bowl of milk for Pussy, on one plate the salt for the
pet lamb, and on another the cornmeal for the dear
little chickens. On the top of the tree he tied a basket
of nuts; these were for his pet squirrel; and I had
almost forgotten to tell you of the bunch of carrots
tied very low down where soft white Bunny could reach
them.

When all was done, Johnny stood off a little way to
look at this wonderful Christmas-tree. Clapping his
hands with delight, he ran to call papa and mamma
and Annie, and they laughed aloud when they saw
what he had done. It was the funniest Christmas-tree
they had ever seen. They were sure the pets would
like the presents Johnny had chosen.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 215

Then there was a busy time in the barn. Papa and
mamma and Annie helped about bringing in the animals,
and before long, Brownie, White Face, Spotty, Rover,
Piggywig, Pussy, Lambkin, the chickens, the squirrel
and Bunny, the rabbit, had been led each to his own
Christmas breakfast on and under the tree. What
a funny sight it was to see them all standing around
looking happy and contented, eating and drinking with
such an appetite!

While watching them Johnny had another thought,
and he ran quickly to the house, and brought out the
new trumpet which papa had given him for Christmas.
By this time the animals had all finished their breakfast
and Johnny gave a little toot on his trumpet as a signal
that the tree festival was over. Brownie went, neighing
and prancing, to her stall. White Face walked demurely
off with a bellow, which Spotty, the calf, running at her
heels, tried to imitate; the little lamb skipped bleating
away; Piggywig walked off with a grunt; Pussy jumped
on the fence with a mew; the squirrel still sat up in
the tree cracking her nuts; Bunny hopped to her snug
little quarters; while Rover, barking loudly, chased the
chickens back to their coop. Such a hubbub of noises !
Mamma said it sounded as if they were trying to say
"Merry Christmas to you, Johnny! Merry Christmas
toaU."

XXIV
THE PHILANTHROPIST'S CHRISTMAS*

JAMES WEBER LINN

DID you see this committee yesterday, Mr. Math-
ews?" asked the philanthropist. His secretary
looked up.

"Yes, sir."

" You recommend them then? "

"Yes, sir."

"For fifty thousand?"

"For fifty thousand — yes, sir."

"Their corresponding subscriptions are guaranteed? "

"I went over the list carefully, Mr. Carter. The
money is promised, and by responsible people."

"Very well," said the philanthropist. "You may
notify them, Mr. Mathews, that my fifty thousand
will be available as the bills come in."

"Yes, sir."

Old Mr. Carter laid down the letter he had been
reading, and took up another. As he perused it his
white eyebrows rose in irritation.

"Mr. Mathews!" he snapped.

"Yes, sir?"

•This story was first published in the Youth's Companion, vol. 82.

zi6

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 217

"You are careless, sir!"

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Carter?" questioned the
secretary, his face flushing.

The old gentleman tapped impatiently the letter
he held in his hand.

"Do you pay no attention, Mr. Mathews, to my
rule that no personal letters containing appeals for
aid are to reach me? How do you accoimt for this,
may I ask? "

"I beg your pardon," said the secretary again.
"You will see, Mr. Carter, that that letter is dated
three weeks ago. I have had the woman's case care-
fully investigated. She is undoubtedly of good reputa-
tion, and undoubtedly in need; and as she speaks
of her father as having associated with you, I thought
perhaps you would care to see her letter."

"A thousand worthless fellows associated with me,"
said the old man, harshly. "In a great factory, Mr.
Mathews, a boy works alongside of the men he is put
with; he does not pick and choose. I dare say this
woman is teUing the truth. What of it? You know
that I regard my money as a public trust. Were my
energy, my concentration, to be wasted by innumerable
individual assaults, what would become of them? My
fortune would slip through my fingers as unprofitably
as sand. You understand, Mr. Mathews? Let me see
no more individual letters. You know that Mr.
Whittemore has full authority to deal with them. May
I trouble you to ring? I am going out."

2i8 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

A man appeared very promptly in answer to the
bell.

"Snififen, my overcoat," said the philanthropist.

"It is 'ere, sir," answered Sniffen, helping the thin
old man into the great fur folds.

"There is no word of the dog, I suppose, Sniffen?"

"None, sir. The pohce was here again yesterday,
sir, but they said as 'ow "

"The police!" The words were fierce with scorn.
" Eight thousand incompetents ! " He turned abruptl}
and went toward the door, where he halted a moment.

"Mr. Mathews, since that woman's letter did
reach me, I suppose I must pay for my carelessness — or
yours. Send her — what does she say — four children?
— send her a hundred dollars. But, for my sake, send
it anonymously. Write her that I pay no attention to
such claims." He went out, and Sniffen closed the
door behind him.

" Takes losin' the Httle dog 'ard, don't he? " remarked
Sniffen, sadly, to the secretary. "I'm afraid there
ain't a chance of findin' 'im now. 'E ain't been stole,
nor 'e ain't been found, or they'd 'ave brung him back
for the reward. 'E's been knocked on the 'ead, like
as not. 'E wasn't much of a dog to look at, you see —
just a pup, I'd call 'im. An' after 'e learned that
trick of slippin' 'is collar off — well, I fancy Mr. Carter's
seen the last of 'im. I do, indeed."

Mr. Carter meanwhile was making his way slowly
down the snowy avenue, upon his accustomed walk.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 219

The walk, however, was dull to-day, for Skiddles, his
little terrier, was not with him to add interest and
excitement. Mr. Carter had found Skiddles in the
country a year and a half before. Skiddles, then a
puppy, was at the time in a most undignified and un-
desirable position, stuck in a drain tile, and unable either
to advance or to retreat. Mr. Carter had shoved him
forward, after a heroic struggle, whereupon Skiddles
had licked his hand. Something in the little dog's
eye, or his action, had induced the rich philanthropist
to bargain for him and buy him at a cost of half a
dollar. Thereafter Skiddles became his daily com-
panion, his chief distraction, and finally the apple of
his eye.

Skiddles was of no known parentage, hardly of any
known breed, but he suited Mr. Carter. What, the
millionaire reflected with a proud cynicism, were
his own antecedents, if it came to that? But now
Skiddles had disappeared.

As Sniff en said, he had learned the trick of slipping
free from his collar. One morning the great front doors
had been left open for two minutes while the hallway
was aired. Skiddles must have slipped down the
marble steps unseen, and dodged round the corner.
At all events, he had vanished, and although the whole
police force of the city had been roused to secure his
return, it was aroused in vain. And for three weeks,
therefore, a small, straight, white bearded man in
a fur overcoat had walked in mournful irritation alone-

220 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

He stood upon a corner uncertainly. One way led
to the park, and this he usually took; but to-day he did
not want to go to the park — it was too reminiscent
of Skiddles. He looked the other way. Down there,
if one went far enough, lay "slums," and Mr. Carter
hated the sight of slums; they always made him miser-
able and discontented. With all his money and his
philanthropy, was there still necessity for such misery
in the world? Worse still came the intrusive question
at times: Had all his money anything to do with the
creation of this misery? He owned no tenements;
he paid good wages in every factory; he had given sums
such as few men have given in the history of philan-
thropy. Still — there were the slums. However, the
worst slums lay some distance off, and he finally turned
his back on the park and walked on.

It was the day before Christmas. You saw it in
people's faces; you saw it in the holly wreaths that
hung in windows; you saw it, even as you passed the
splendid, forbidding houses on the avenue, in the green
that here and there banked massive doors; but most
of all, you saw it in the shops. Up here the shops were
smallish, and chiefly of the provision variety, so there
was no bewildering display of gifts; but there were
Christmas-trees everywhere, of all sizes. It was aston-
ishing how many people in that neighbourhood seem.ed
to favour the old-fashioned idea of a tree.

Mr. Carter looked at them with his irritation soften-
ing. If they made him feel a trifle more lonely, they

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 221

allowed him to feel also a trifle less responsible — for,
after all, it was a fairly happy world.

At this moment he perceived a curious phenomenon
a short distance before him — another Christmas-tree,
but one which moved, apparently of its own volition,
along the sidewalk. As Mr. Carter overtook it, he
saw that it was borne, or dragged, rather by a small boy
who wore a bright red flannel cap and mittens of the
same peculiar material. As Mr. Carter looked down at
him, he looked up at Mr. Carter, and spoke cheerfully:

"Coin' my way, mister?"

"Why," said the philanthropist, somewhat taken
back, ''I was!"

"Mind draggin' this a little way?" asked the boy,
confidently, "my hands is cold."

"Won't you enjoy it more if you manage to take it
home by yourself? "

"Oh, it ain't for me!" said the boy.

"Your employer," said the philanthropist, severely,
"is certainly careless if he allows his trees to be de-
livered in this fashion."

"I ain't deHverin' it, either," said the boy. "This
is Bill's tree."

"Who is Bill?"

"He's a feller with a back that's no good."

"Is he you brother?"

"No. Take the tree a little way, will you, while I
warm myself?"

The philanthropist accepted the burden — he did not

222 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

know why. The boy, released, ran forward, jumped
up and down, slapped his red flannel mittens on his
legs, and then ran back again. After repeating these
manoeuvres two or three times, he returned to where
the old gentleman stood holding the tree.

"Thanks," he said. "Say, mister, you look like
Santa Glaus yourself, standin' by the tree, with your
fur cap and your coat. I bet you don't have to run to
keep warm, hey? " There was high admiration in his
look. Suddenly his eyes sparkled with an inspiration.

"Say, mister," he cried, "will you do something for
me? Come in to Bill's — he lives only a block from
here — and just let him see you. He's only a kid, and
he'll think he's seen Santa Claus, sure. We can tell
him you're so busy to-morrow you have to go to lots
of places to-day. You won't have to give him any-
thing. We're looking out for all that. Bill got hurt
in the summer, and he's been in bed ever since. So
we are giving him a Christmas — tree and all. He
gets a bunch of things — an air gun, and a train that
goes around when you wind her up. They're great! "

"You boys are doing this?"

"Well, it's our club at the settlement, and of course
Miss Gray thought of it, and she's givin' Bill the
train. Come along, mister."

But Mr. Carter declined.

"All right," said the boy. "I guess, what with Pete
and all. Bill will have Christmas enough."

"Who is Pete?"

CHILDREX'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 223

"Bill's dog. He's had him three weeks now — the
best little pup you ever saw ! "

A dog which Bill had had three weeks — and in a
neighbourhood not a quarter of a mile from the
avenue. It was three weeks since Skiddles had dis-
appeared. That this dog was Skiddles was of course
most improbable, and yet the philanthropist was
ready to grasp at any clue which might lead to the
lost terrier.

'' How did Bin get this dog? " he demanded.

" I found him myseh. Some kids had tin-canned him,
and he came into our entr}*. He licked my hand, and
then sat up on his hind legs. Somebody'd taught
him that, you know. I thought right away, 'Here's
a dog for Bill!' And I took him over there and fed
him, and they kept him in Bill's room two or three
days, so he shouldn't get scared again and run off;
and now he wouldn't leave Bill for anybody. Of
course, he ain't much of a dog, Pete ain't," he added,
"he's just a pup, but he's mighty friendly!"

"Boy,'' said Mr. Carter, "I guess I'll just go round
and*' — he was about to add, "have a look at that dog, "
but fearful of raising suspicion, he ended — "and see
Bill."

The tenements to which the boy led him were of
brick, and reasonably clean. Nearly ever}' Vvdndow
showed some sign of Christmas.

The tree-bearer led the way into a dark haU, up one
flight — }vlr. Carter assisting with the tree — and

224 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

down another dark hall, to a door, on which he knocked,
A woman opened it.

"Here's the tree!" said the boy, in a loud whisper.
" Is BiU's door shut?"

Mr. Carter stepped forward out of the darkness.

"I beg your pardon, madam," he said. "I met
this young man in the street, and he asked me to come
here and see a playmate of his who is, I understand, an
invalid. But if I am intruding "

" Come in," said the woman, heartily, throwing the
door open. " Bill will be glad to see you, sir."

The philanthropist stepped inside.

The room was decently furnished and clean. There
was a sewing machine in the corner, and in both the
windows hung wreaths of holly. Between the windows
was a cleared space, where evidently the tree, when
decorated, was to stand.

''Are all the things here?" eagerly demanded the
tree-bearer.

"They're all here, Jimmy," answered Mrs. Bailey.
"The candy just came."

"Say," cried the boy, pulHng off his red flannel mit-
tens to blow on his fingers, "won't it be great? But
now Bill's got to see Santa Claus. I'll just go in and tell
him, an ' then, when I holler, mister, you come on, and
pretend you're Santa Claus." And with incredible
celerity the boy opened the door at the opposite end
of the room and disappeared.

"Madam," said Mr. Carter, m considerable em-

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 225

barrassment, " I must say one word. I am Mr. Carter,
Mr. Allan Carter. You may have heard my name?"

She shook her head. "No, sir."

"I live not far from here on the avenue. Three
weeks ago I lost a little dog that I valued very much
I have had all the city searched since then, in vain.
To-day I met the boy who has just left us. He informed
me that three weeks ago he found a dog, which is at
present in the possession of your son. I wonder — is
it not just possible that this dog may be mine?"

Mrs. Bailey smiled. "I guess not, Mr. Carter.
The dog Jimmy found hadn't come off the avenue —
not from the look of him. You know there's hundreds
and hundreds of dogs without homes, sir. But I will
say for this one, he has a kind of a way with him."

" Hark !" said Mr. Carter.

There was a rustling and a snufi&ng at the door at
the far end of the room, a quick scratching of feet.
Then :

"Woof! woof! woof!" sharp and clear came happy
impatient little barks. The philanthropist's eyes
brightened. "Yes," he said, "that is the dog. "

"I doubt if it can be, sir," said Mrs. Bailey, depre-
catingly.

"Open the door, please," commanded the philan-
thropist, "and let us see." Mrs. Bailey complied.
There was a quick jump, a tumbling rush, and Skiddles,
the lost Skiddles, was in the philanthropist's arms.
Mrs. Bailey shut the door with a troubled face.

226 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"I see it's your dog, sir," she said, "but I hope you
won't be thinking that Jimmy or I "

''Madam," interrupted Mr. Carter, "I could not be
so foolish. On the contrary, I owe you a thousand
thanks."

Mrs. Bailey looked more cheerful. "Poor little
Billy!" she said. "It'll come hard on him, losing
Pete just at Christmas time. But the boys are so
good to him, I dare say he'll forget it."

"Who are these boys?" inquired the philanthropist.
"Isn't their action — somewhat unusual ?"

"It's Miss Gray's club at the settlement, sir," ex-
plained Mrs. Bailey. "Every Christmas they do this
for somebody. It's not charity; Billy and I don't
need charity, or take it. It's just friendliness. They're
good boys."

"I see," said the philanthropist. He was still
wondering about it, though, when the door opened
again, and Jimmy thrust out a face shining with
anticipation.

"All ready, mister!" he said. "Bill's waitin' for
you!"

"Jimmy," began Mrs. Bailey, about to explain, "the
gentleman "

But the philanthropist held up his hand, interrupting
her. "You'll let me see your son, Mrs. Bailey?" he
asked, gently.

"Why, certainly, sir."

Mr. Carter put Skiddles down and walked slowly

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 227

into the inner room. The bed stood with its side toward
him. On it lay a small boy of seven, rigid of body, but
with his arms free and his face lighted with joy.

"Hello, Santa Claus!" he piped, in a voice shrill
with excitement.

"Hello, Bill!" answered the philanthropist, sedately.

The boy turned his eyes on Jimmy.

"He knows my name," he said, with glee.

" He knows everybody's name," said Jimmy. " Now
you tell him what you want, Bill, and he'll bring it
to-morrow.

"How would you like," said the philanthropist,

reflectively, "an — an " he hesitated, it seemed so

incongruous with that stiff figure on the bed — "an air-
gun? "

" I guess yes," said Bill, happily.

"And a train of cars," broke in the impatient Jimmy,
"that goes like sixty when you wind her?"

"Hi!"saidBiU.

The philanthropist solemnly made notes of this.

"How about," he remarked, inquiringly, "a tree?"

"Honest?" said Bill.

"I think it can be managed," said Santa Claus.
He advanced to the bedside.

"I'm glad to have seen you. Bill. You know how
busy I am, but I hope — I hope to see you again."

"Not till next year, of course, " warned Jimmy.

"Not till then, of course," assented Santa Claus.
"And now, good-bye."

228 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"You forgot to ask him if he'd been a good boy,"
suggested Jimmy.

"I have," said Bill. "I've been fine. You ask
mother."

" She gives you— she gives you both a high character,"
said Santa Glaus. "Good-bye again," and so saying
he withdrew. Skiddles followed him out. The phil-
anthropist closed the door of the bedroom, and then
turned to Mrs. Bailey.

She was regarding him with awestruck eyes.

" Oh, sir, " she said, " I know now who you are — the
Mr. Garter that gives so much away to people!"

The philanthropist nodded, deprecatingly.

"Just so, Mrs. Bailey," he said. "And there is one
gift — or loan rather — which I should like to make
to you. I should like to leave the little dog with you till
after the holidays. I'm afraid I'll have to claim him
then; but if you'll keep him till after Christmas — and
let me find, perhaps, another dog for Billy — I shall
be much obliged."

Again the door of the bedroom opened, and Jimmy
emerged quietly.

"Bill wants the pup," he explained.

"Pete! Pete!" came the piping but happy voice
from the inner room.

Skiddles hesitated. Mr. Garter made no sign.

"Pete! Pete!" shrilled the voice again.

Slowly, very slowly, Skiddles turned and went back
into the bedroom.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 229

"You see," said Mr. Carter, smiling, ''he won't be
too unhappy away from me, Mrs. Bailey."

On his way home the philanthropist saw even more
evidences of Christmas gaiety along the streets than
before. He stepped out briskly, in spite of his sixty-
eight years; he even hummed a little tune.

When he reached the house on the avenue he found
his secretary still at work .

''Oh, by the way, Mr. Mathews," he said, "did you
send that letter to the woman, saying I never paid
attention to personal appeals? No? Then write her,
please, enclosing my check for two hundred dollars, and
wish her a very Merry Christmas in my name, will you?
And hereafter will you always let me see such letters as
that one — of course after careful investigation? I
fancy perhaps I may have been too rigid in the past."

"Certainly, sir," answered the bewildered secretary.
He began fumbling excitedly for his note-book.

" I found the little dog," continued the philanthropist.
"You will be glad to know that."

" You have found him? " cried the secretary. " Have
you got him back, Mr. Carter? Where was he?"

"He was — detained — on Oak Street, I believe," said
the philanthropist. "No, I have not got him back yet.
I have left him with a young boy till after the holidays."

He settled himself to his papers, for philanthropists
must toil even on the twenty-fourth of December, but
the secretary shook his head in a daze. "I wonder
what's happened? " he said to himself.

XXV

THE FIRST CHRISTMAS-TREE

BY LUCY WHEELOCK

TWO little children were sitting by the fire one
cold winter's night. All at once they heard a
timid knock at the door and one ran to open it.

There, outside in the cold and darkness, stood a
child with no shoes upon his feet and clad in. thin, rag-
ged garments. He was shivering with cold, and he
asked to come in and warm himself.

"Yes, come in," cried both the children. ''^ You shall
have our place by the fire. Come in."

They drew tha little stranger to their warm seat
and shared their supper with him, and gave him their
bed, while they slept on a hard bench.

In the night they were awakened by strains of sweet
music, and looking out, they saw a band of children
in shining garments, approaching the house. They
were playing on golden harps and the air was full
of melody.

Suddenly the Strange Child stood before them: no
longer cold and ragged, but clad in silvery light.

His soft voice said: "I was cold and you took Me
in. I was hungry and you fed Me. I was tired and

230

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 231

you gave Me your bed. I am the Christ-Child, wan-
dering through the world to bring peace and happiness
to all good children. As you have given to Me, so
may this tree every year give rich fruit to you."

So saying, He broke a branch from the fir-tree that
grew near the door, and He planted it in the ground
and disappeared. And the branch grew into a great
tree, and every year it bore wonderful fruit for the kind
children.

XXVI
THE FIRST NEW ENGLAND CHRISTMAS*

G. L. STONE AND M. G. FICKETT

IT WAS a warm and pleasant Saturday — that
twenty- third of December, 1620. The winter
wind had blown itself away in the storm of the day
before, and the air was clear and balmy.

The people on board the Mayflower were glad of
the pleasant day. It was three long months since
they had started from Plymouth, in England, to seek
a home across the ocean. Now they had come into a
harbour that they named New Plymouth, in the country
of New England.

Other people called these voyagers Pilgrims, which
means wanderers. A long while before, the Pilgrims
had lived in England; later they made their home
with the Dutch in Holland ; finally they had said good-
bye to their friends in Holland and in England, and
had sailed away to America.

There were only one hundred and two of the Pilgrims
on the MayHower, but they were brave and strong and
full of hope. Now the Mayflower was the only home

•From Stone and Pickett's "Every Day Life in the Colonies; " copyrighted
1905, by D. C. Heath & Co. Used by permission.

33a

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 233

they had; yet if this weather lasted they might soon
have warm log-cabins to live in. This very after-
noon the men had gone ashore to cut down the large
trees.

The women of the Mayflower were busy, too. Some
were spinning, some knitting, some sewing. It was
so bright and pleasant that Mistress Rose Standish
had taken out her knitting and had gone to sit a little
while on deck. She was too weak to face rough weather,
and she wanted to enjoy the warm sunshine and the
clear salt air. By her side was Mistress Brewster, the
minister's wife. Everybody loved Mistress Standish
and Mistress Brewster, for neither of them ever spoke
unkindly.

The air on deck would have been warm even on a
colder day, for in one comer a bright fire was burning-
It would seem strange now, would it not, to see a fire
on the deck of a vessel? But in those days, when
the weather was pleasant, people on shipboard did
their cooking on deck.

The Pilgrims had no stoves, and Mistress Carver's
maid had built this fire on a large hearth covered with
sand. She had hung a great kettle on the crane over
the fire, where the onion soup for supper was now
simmering slowly.

Near the fire sat a little girl, busily playing and singing
to herself. Little Remember Allerton was only six
years old, but she liked to be with Hannah, Mistress
Carver's maid. This afternoon Remember had been

234 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

watching Hannah build the fire and make the soup.
Now the Httle girl was playing with the Indian arrow-
heads her father had brought her the night before.
She was singing the words of the old psalm :

" Shout to Jehovah, all the earth,

Serve ye Jehovah with gladness; before

him bow with singing mirth. "

"Ah, child, methinks the children of Old England
are singing different words from those to-day," spoke
Hannah at length, with a faraway look in her eyes.

"Why, Hannah? What songs are the little EngUsh
children singing now?" questioned Remember in
surprise.

"It lacks but two days of Christmas, child, and in
my old home everybody is singing Merry Christmas
songs. ' '

"But thou hast not told me what is Christmas!'
persisted the child.

"Ah, me! Thou dost not know, 'tis true. Christ-
mas, Remember, is the birthday of the Christ-Child,
of Jesus, whom thou hast learned to love," Hannah
answered softly.

"But what makes the English children so happy
then? And we are English, thou hast told me, Hannah.
Why don't we keep Christmas, too? "

"In sooth we are EngHsh, child. But the reason
why we do not sing the Christmas carols or play the
Christmas games makes a long, long story, Remember.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 235

Hannah cannot teU it so that httle children will under-
stand. Thou must ask some other, child."

Hannah and the httle girl were just then near the
two women on the deck, and Remember said:

"Mistress Brewster, Hannah sayeth she knoweth
not how to tell why Love and Wrestling and Constance
and the others do not sing the Christmas songs or
play the Christmas games. But thou wilt tell me
wilt thou not?" she added coaxingly.

A sad look came into Mistress Brewster's eyes, and
Mistress Standish looked grave, too. No one spoke
for a few seconds, until Hannah said almost sharply:
"Why could we not burn a Yule log Monday, and
make some meal into little cakes for the children? "

"Nay, Hannah," answered the gentle voice of
Mistress Brewster. "Such are but vain shows and
not for those of us who believe in holier things. But,"
she added, with a kind glance at little Remember,
"wouldst thou like to know why we have left Old
England and do not keep the Christmas Day? Thou
canst not understand it all, child, and yet it may do thee
no harm to hear the story. It may help thee to be
a brave and happy little girl in the midst of our hard
life."

"Surely it can do no harm. Mistress Brewster,"
spoke Rose Standish, gently. "Remember is a little
Pilgrim now, and she ought, methinks, to know some-
thing of the reason for our wandering. Come here,
child, and sit by me, while good Mistress Brewster

236 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

tells thee how cruel men have made us suffer. Then will
I sing thee one of the Christmas carols. "

With these words she held out her hands to little
Remember, who ran quickly to the side of Mistress
Standish, and eagerly waited for the story to begin.

"We have not always lived in Holland, Remember.
Most of us were bom in England, and England is the
best country in the world. 'Tis a land to be proud of.
Remember, though some of its rulers have been wicked
and cruel.

"Long before you were born, when your mother was
a little girl, the English king said that everybody in
the land ought to think as he thought, and go to a
church like his. He 'said he would send us away from
England if we did not do as he ordered. Now, we
could not think as he did on holy matters, and it seemed
wrong to us to obey him. So we decided to go to a
country where we might worship as we pleased."

"What became of that cruel king, Mistress Brew-
ster?"

"He ruleth England now. But thou must not think
too hardly of him. He doth not understand, perhaps.
Right will win some day, Remember, though there may
be bloody war before peace cometh. And I thank God
that we, at least, shall not be called on to live in the
midst of the strife," she went on, speaking more to
herself than to the little girl.

"We decided to go to Holland, out of the reach of
the king. We were not sure whether it wLd best to

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 237

move or not, but our hearts were set on God's ways.
We trusted Him in whom we believed. Yes," she
went on, "and shall we not keep on trusting Him? "

And Rose Standish, remembering the little stock of
food that was nearly gone, the disease that had come
upon many of their number, and the five who had died
that month, answered firmly : "Yes. He who has led
us thus far will not leave us now."

They were all silent a few seconds. Presently
Remember said: "Then did ye go to Holland, Mistress
Brewster?"

"Yes," she said. "Our people all went over to
Holland, where the Dutch folk live and the little Dutch
children clatter about with their wooden shoes. There
thou wast born. Remember, and my own children,
and there we Hved in love and peace."

"And yet, we were not wholly happy. We could not
talk well with the Dutch, and so we could not set right
what was wrong among them. 'Twas so hard to earn
money that many had to go back to England. And
worst of all. Remember, we were afraid that you and
little Bartholomew and Mary and Love and Wrestling
and all the rest would not grow to be good girls and
boys. And so we have come to this new country
to teach our children to be pure and noble."

After another silence Remember spoke again: "I
thank thee. Mistress Brewster. And I will try to be a
good girl. But thou didst not tell me about Christmas
after all."

238 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

" Nay, child, but now I will. There are long services
on that day in every church where the king's friends
go. But there are parts of these services which we can-(
not approve; and so we think it best not to follow the
other customs that the king's friends observe on Christ-
mas.

"They trim their houses with mistletoe and holly
so that everything looks gay and cheerful. Their
other name for the Christmas time is the Yuletide,
and the big log that is burned then is called the Yule
log. The children like to sit around the hearth in
front of the great, blazing Yule log, and listen to stories
of long, long ago.

"At Christmas there are great feasts in England,
too. No one is allowed to go hungry, for the rich
people on the day always send meat and cakes to
the poor folk round about.

"But we like to make aU our days Christmas days,
Remember. We try never to forget God's gifts to us,
and they remind us always to be good to other people."

"And the Christmas carols, Mistress Standish?
What are they?"

"On Christmas Eve and early on Christmas morn-
ing," Rose Standish answered, "Httle children go about
from house to house, singing Christmas songs. 'Tis
what I like best in all the Christmas cheer. And I
promised to sing thee one, did I not?"

Then Mistress Standish sang in her clear, sweet
voice the quaint old English words:

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 239

As Joseph was a-walking,
He heard an angel sing:
"This night shall be the birth-time
Of Christ, the heavenly King.

"He neither shall be bom
In housen nor in hall,
Nor in the place of Paradise,
But in an ox's stall.

"He neither shall be clothM

In purple nor in pall.

But in the fair white linen

That usen babies all.

"He neither shall be rocked
In silver nor in gold,
But in a wooden manger
That resteth in the mould."

As Joseph was a-walking

There did an angel sing.
And Mary's child at midnight

Was born to be our King.

Then be ye glad, good people,

This night of all the year.
And Hght ye up your candles,

For His star it shineth clear.

Before the song was over, Hannah had come on
deck again, and was listening eagerly. "I thank thee,
Mistress Standish," she said, the tears filling her blue
eyes. " 'Tis long, indeed, since I have heard that
song."

240 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"Would it be wrong for me to learn to sing those
words, Mistress Standish?" gently questioned the little
girl.

"Nay, Remember, I trow not. The song shall be
thy Christmas gift."

Then Mistress Standish taught the little girl one
verse after another of the sweet old carol, and it was
not long before Remember could say it all.

The next day was dull and cold, and on Monday,
the twenty-fifth, the sky was still overcast. There
was no bright Yule log in the Mayflower^ and no holly
trimmed the little cabin.

The Pilgrims were true to the faith they loved.
They held no special service. They made no gifts.
Instead, they went again to the work of cutting the
trees, and no one murmured at his hard lot.

"We went on shore," one man wrote in his diary,
"some to fell timber, some to saw, some to rive, and
some to carry; so no man rested all that day."

As for little Remember, she spent the day on board
the Mayflower. She heard no one speak of England or
sigh for the English home across the sea. But she
did not forget Mistress Brewster's story; and more
than once that day, as she was playing by herself,
she fancied that she was in front of some English
home, helping the English children sing their Christ-
mas songs.

And both Mistress Allerton and Mistress Standish,
whom God was soon to call away from their earthly

CHRISTMAS CHILDREN'S STORIES 241

home, felt happier and stronger as they heard the little
girl singing:

He neither shall be born

In housen nor in hall,
Nor in the place of Paradise,

But in an ox's stall.

s

XXVI

THE CRATCHITS' CHRISTMAS DINNER

(Adapted)

CHARLES DICKENS

CROOGE and the Ghost of Christmas Present
stood in the city streets on Christmas morning,
where (for the weather was severe) the people made
a rough but brisk and not unpleasant kind of music,
in scraping the snow from the pavement in front of
their dwelUngs, and from the tops of their houses,
whence it was mad delight to the boys to see it come
plumping down into the road below, and splitting into
artificial little snowstorms.

The house fronts looked black enough, and the win-
dows blacker, contrasting with the smooth white sheet
of snow upon the roofs, and with the dirtier snow upon
the ground, which last deposit had been ploughed up
in deep furrows by the heavy wheels of carts and wagons;
furrows that crossed and recrossed each other hundreds
of times where the great streets branched oflf , and made
intricate channels, hard to trace, in the thick yellow
mud and icy water. The sky was gloomy, and the
shortest streets were choked up with a dingy mist,
half thawed, half frozen, whose heavier particles

242

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 243

descended in a shower of sooty atoms, as if all the
chimneys in Great Britain had, by one consent,
caught fire, and were blazing away to their dear
heart's content. There was nothing very cheerful
in the climate or the town, and yet was there an air of
cheerfulness abroad that the clearest summer air and
brightest summer sun might have endeavoured to
diffuse in vain.

For the people who were shovelling away on the
housetops were jovial and full of glee, calling out to one
another from the parapets, and now and then exchang-
ing a facetious snowball — better-natured missile far
than many a wordy jest — laughing heartily if it went
right, and not less heartily if it went wrong. The poul-
terers' shops were still half open, and the fruiterers' were
radiant in their glory. There were great, round, pot-
beUied baskets of chestnuts, shaped like the waist-
coats of jolly old gentlemen, lolling at the doors, and
tumbling out into the street in their apoplectic opulence.
There were ruddy, brown-faced, broad-girthed Span-
ish onions, shining in the fatness of their growth like
Spanish friars, and winking, from their shelves, in
wanton slyness at the girls as they went by, and
glanced demurely at the hung-up mistletoe. There
were pears and apples, clustering high in blooming
pyramids; there were bimches of grapes, made, in the
shop-keeper's benevolence, to dangle from conspicuous
hooks, that people's mouths might water gratis as
they passed; there were piles of filberts, mossy and

344 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

brown, recalling, in their fragrance, ancient walks
among the woods, and pleasant shufflings ankle deep
through withered leaves; there were Norfolk bif-
fins, squab and swarthy, setting off the yeUow of
the oranges and lemons, and, in the great compactness
of their juicy persons, urgently entreating and be-
seeching to be carried home in paper bags and eaten
after dinner. The very gold and silver fish, set forth
among these choice fruits in a bowl, though members
of a dull and stagnant-blooded race, appeared to
know that there was something going on; and, to a fish,
went gasping round and round their little world in
slow and passionless excitement.

The grocers'! oh, the grocers'! nearly closed, with
perhaps two shutters down, or one; but through those
gaps such glimpses! It was not alone that the scales
descending on the counter made a merry sound, or that
the twine and roller parted company so briskly, or that
the canisters were rattled up and down like juggling
tricks, or even that the blended scents of tea and coffee
were so grateful to the nose, or even that the raisins
were so plentiful and rare, the almonds so extremely
white, the sticks of cinnamon so long and straight, the
other spices so delicious, the candied fruits so caked
end spotted with molten sugar as to make the coldest
lookers-on feel faint, and subsequently bilious. Nor
was it that the figs were moist and pulpy, or that the
French plums blushed in modest tartness from their
highly decorated boxes, or that everything was good

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 245

to eat and in its Christmas dress; but the customers
were all so hurried and so eager in the hopeful promise
of the day that they tumbled up against each other
at the door, crashing their wicker baskets wildly, and
left their purchases upon the counter, and came running
back to fetch them, and committed hundreds of the
like mistakes, in the best humour possible; while the
grocer and his people were so frank and fresh that the
polished hearts with which they fastened their aprons
behind might have been their own, worn outside for
general inspection, and for Christmas daws to peck
at, if they chose.

But soon the steeples called good people all to church
and chapel, and away they came, flocking through the
streets in their best clothes, and with their gayest
faces. And at the same time there emerged from scores
of by-streets, lanes, and nameless turnings, innumerable
people, carrying their dinners to the bakers' shops.
The sight of these poor revellers appeared to interest
the Spirit very much, for he stood, with Scrooge beside
him, in a baker's doorway, and, taking off the covers
as their bearers passed, sprinkled incense on their
dinners from his torch. And it was a very uncommon
kind of torch, for once or twice when there were angry
words between some dinner-carriers who had jostled
each other, he shed a few drops of water on them from
it, and their good-humour was restored directly. For
they said it was a shame to quarrel upon Christmas
Day. And so it was ! God love it^ so it was !

246 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

In time the bells ceased, and the bakers were shut
up; and yet there was a genial shadowing forth of aU
these dinners, and the progress of their cooking, in
the thawed blotch of wet above each baker's oven,
where the pavement smoked as if its stones were cooking
too.

"Is there a peculiar flavour in what you sprinkle
from your torch?" asked Scrooge.

"There is. My own."

"Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day? "
asked Scrooge.

" To any kindly given. To a poor one most."

"Why to a poor one most?" asked Scrooge.

"Because it needs it most."

They went on, invisible, as they had been before,
into the suburbs of the town. It was a remarkable
quality of the Ghost (which Scrooge had observed at
the baker's) that, notwithstanding his gigantic size, he
could accommodate himself to any place with ease;
and that he stood beneath a low roof quite as gracefully,
and like a supernatural creature, as it was possible he
could have done in any lofty hall.

And perhaps it was the pleasure the good Spirit had
in showing off this power of his, or else it was his own
kind, generous, hearty nature, and his sympathy
with all poor men, that led him straight to Scrooge's
clerk's; for there he went, and took Scrooge with him,
holding to his robe; and on the threshold of the door
the Spirit smiled, and stopped to bless Bob Cratchit's

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 247

dwelling with the sprinklings of his torch. Think 01
that! Bob had but fifteen "bob" a week himself;
he pocketed on Saturdays but fifteen copies of his
Christian name; and yet the Ghost of Christmas
Present blessed his four-roomed house I

Then up rose Mrs. Cratchit, Cratchit's wife, dressed
out but poorly in a twice-turned gown, but brave in
ribbons, which are cheap and make a goodly show
for sixpence; and she laid the cloth, assisted by Belinda
Cratchit, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons;
while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the
saucepan of potatoes, and getting the comers of his
monstrous shirt-collar (Bob's private property, con-
ferred upon his son and heir in honour of the day) into
his mouth, rejoiced to find himself so gallantly attired,
and yearned to show his Hnen in the fashionable parks.
And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came
tearing in, screaming that outside the baker's they had
smelt the goose, and known it for their own, and, bask-
ing in luxurious thoughts of sage and onion, these young
Cratchits danced about the table, and exalted Master
Peter Cratchit to the skies, while he (not proud,
although his collar nearly choked him) blew the fire,
until the slow potatoes, bubbling up, knocked loudly
at the saucepan lid to be let out and peeled.

"What has ever got your precious father, then?"
said Mrs. Cratchit. "And your brother. Tiny Tim?
And Martha warn't as late last Christmas Day by
half an hour!"

248 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"Here's Martha, mother!" said a girl, appearing as
she spoke.

"Here's Martha, mother!" cried the two young
Cratchits. " Hurrah ! There's such a goose, Martha ! "

"Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you
are!" said Mrs. Cratchit, kissing her a dozen times,
and taking o£f her shawl and bonnet for her with
officious zeal.

"We'd a deal of work to finish up last night,"
replied the girl, "and had to clear away this morning,
mother!"

"Well, never mind so long as you are come," said
Mrs. Cratchit. " Sit ye down before the fire, my dear,
and have a warm. Lord bless ye!"

"No, no! There's father coming!" cried the two
young Cratchits, who were everywhere at once.
"Hide, Martha, hide!"

So Martha hid herself, and in came little Bob,
the father, with at least three feet of comforter, ex-
clusive of the fringe, hanging down before him, and his
threadbare clothes darned up and brushed, to look
seasonable; and Tiny Tim upon his shoulder. Alas for
Tiny Tim, he bore a little crutch, and had his limbs
supported by an iron frame!

"Why, Where's our Martha?" cried Bob Cratchit,
looking around.

"Not coming," said Mrs. Cratchit.

"Not coming?" said Bob, with a sudden declension
in his high spirits; for he had been Tim's blood horse

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 249

all the way from the church, and had come home
rampant. "Not coming upon Christmas Day?"

Martha didn't like to see him disappointed, if it
were only in joke; so she came out prematurely from
behind the closet door, and ran into his arms, while
the two young Cratchits hustled Tiny Tim, and bore
him off into the wash-house, that he might hear the
pudding singing in the copper.

"And how did little Tim behave?" asked Mrs.
Cratchit, when she had rallied Bob on his credulity,
and Bob had hugged his daughter to his heart's content.

"As good as gold," said Bob, "and better. Somehow
he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and
thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told
me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him
in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might
be pleasant to them to remember, upon Christmas Day,
who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see."

Bob's voice was tremulous when he told them this,
and trembled more when he said that Tiny Tim was
growing strong and hearty.

His active little crutch was heard upon the floor,
and back came Tiny Tim before another word was
spoken, escorted by his brother and sister to his stool
beside the fire; and while Bob, turning up his cuffs —
as if, poor fellow, they were capable of being made more
shabby — compounded some hot mixture in a jug
with gin and lemons, and stirred it round and round,
and put it on the hob to simmer, Master Peter and

250 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

the two ubiquitous young Cratchits went to fetch
the goose, with which they soon returned in high
procession.

Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought
a goose the rarest of all birds — a feathered phenom-
enon, to which a black swan was a matter of course —
and in truth it was something very like it in that house.
Mrs. Cratchit made the gravy (ready beforehand in a
little saucepan) hissing hot; Master Peter mashed
the potatoes with incredible vigour ; Miss Belinda sweet-
ened up the apple-sauce; Martha dusted the hot plates;
Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at
the table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for
everybody, not forgetting themselves, and, mounting
guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their
mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their
turn came to be helped. At last the dishes were set on,
and grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathless
pause, as Mrs. Cratchit, looking slowly all along the
carving knife, prepared to plunge it into the breast;
but when she did, and when the long expected gush
of stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose
all round the board, and even Tiny Tim, excited by
the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the
handle of his knife, and feebly cried, "Hurrah!"

There never was such a goose. Bob said he didn't
believe there ever was such a goose cooked. Its tender-
ness and flavour, size and cheapness, were the themes
of universal admiration. Eked out by apple-sauce

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 251

and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for
the whole family; indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said
with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone
upon the dish), they hadn't ate it all at last! Yet
every one had had enough, and the youngest Crat-
chits in particular were steeped in sage and onion to
the eyebrows! But now, the plates being changed by
Miss Belinda, Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone — too
nervous to bear witnesses — to take the pudding up,
and bring it in.

Suppose it should not be done enough? Suppose
it should break in turning out? Suppose somebody
should have got over the wall of the backyard and
stolen it, while they were merry with the goose — a
supposition at which the two young Cratchits became
livid ! All sorts of horrors were supposed.

Hallo! A great deal of steam! The pudding was
out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day I That
was the cloth. A smell like an eating house and a
pastry-cook's next door to each other, with a laundress's
next door to that! That was the pudding! In half
a minute Mrs. Cratchit entered — flushed, but smiling
proudly — with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball,
so hard and firm, blazing in half of half-a-quartem
of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly
stuck into the top.

Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said,
and calmly, too, that he regarded it as the greatest
success achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage.

aS2 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Mrs. Cratchit said that, now the weight was off her
mind, she would confess she had her doubts about the
quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say
about it, but nobody thought or said it was at all a
small pudding for a large family. It would have been
flat heresy to do so. Any Cratchit would have blushed
to hint at such a thing.

At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared,
the hearth swept, and the fire made up. The com-
pound in the jug being tasted, and considered perfect,
apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a
shovelful of chestnuts on the fire. Then all the Cratchit
family drew round the hearth in what Bob Cratchit
called a circle, meaning half a one; and at Bob Cratchit's
elbow stood the family display of glass — two tumblers
and a custard-cup without a handle.

These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as
well as golden goblets would have done; and Bob served
it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the
fire sputtered and cracked noisily. Then Bob pro-
posed :

"A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God
bless us!"

Which all the family reechoed.

**God bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim, the
last of all.

XXVII
CHRISTMAS IN SEVENTEEN SEVENIY-SIX*

ANNE HOLLINGSWORTH WHARTON

"On Christmas day in Seventy-six,

Our gallant troops with bayonets fixed,
To Trenton marched away."

CHILDREN, have any of you ever thought of
what little people like you were doing in this
country more than a hundred years ago, when the
cruel tide of war swept over its bosom? From many
homes the fathers were absent, fighting bravely for
the liberty which we now enjoy, while the mothers no
less valiantly struggled against hardships and dis-
comforts in order to keep a home for their children,
whom you only know as your great-grandfathers and
great-grandmothers, dignified gentlemen and beautiful
ladies, whose painted portraits hang upon the walls
in some of your homes. Merry, romping children
they were in those far-off times, yet their bright faces
must have looked grave sometimes, when they heard
the grown people talk of the great things that were
happening around them. Some of these little people

*From "A Last Century Maid and Other Stories for Children," by
A. H. W. Lippincott, 1895.

254 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

never forgot the wonderful events of which they heard^
and afterward related them to their children and
grandchildren, which accounts for some of the inter-
esting stories which you may still hear, if you are
good children.

The Christmas story that I have to tell you is about
a boy and girl who lived in Bordentown, New Jersey.
The father of these children was a soldier in General
Washington's army, which was encamped a few miles
north of Trenton, on the Pennsylvania side of the
Delaware River. Bordentown, as you can see by
looking on your map, if you have not hidden them all
away for the holidays, is about seven miles south of
Trenton, where fifteen hundred Hessians and a
troop of British light horse were holding the town.
Thus you see that the British, in force, were between
Washington's army and Bordentown, besides which
there were some British and Hessian troops in the
very town. All this seriously interfered with Captain
Tracy's going home to eat his Christmas dinner with
his wife and children. Kitty and Harry Tracy, who
had not lived long enough to see many wars, could not
imagine such a thing as Christmas without their father,
and had busied themselves for weeks in making every-
thing ready to have a merry time with him. Kitty,
who loved to play quite as much as any frolicsome
Kitty of to-day, had spent all her spare time in knit-
ting a pair of thick woollen stockings, which seems a
wonderful feat for a little girl only eight years old to

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 255

perform! Can you not see her sitting by the great
chimney-place, filled with its roaring, crackling logs,
in her quaint, short-waisted dress, knitting away stead-
ily, and puckering up her rosy, dimpled face over
the strange twists and turns of that old stocking? I
can see her, and I can also hear her sweet voice as she
chatters away to her mother about "how 'sprised
papa will be to find that his little girl can knit like a
grown-up woman," while Harry spreads out on the
hearth a goodly store of shellbarks that he has
gathered and is keeping for his share of the 'sprise.

"What if he shouldn't come?" asks Harry, suddenly.

"Oh, he'll come! Papa never stays away on Christ-
mas," says Kitty, looking up into her mother's face
for an echo to her words. Instead she sees something
very like tears in her mother's eyes.

"Oh, mamma, don't you think he'll come?"

"He will come if he possibly can," says Mrs. Tracy;
"and if he cannot, we will keep Christmas whenever
dear papa does come home."

"It won't be half so nice," said Kitty, "nothing's
so nice as really Christmas, and how's Kriss Kringle
going to know about it if we change the day? "

"We'll let him come just the same, and if he brings
anything for papa we can put it away for him."

This plan, still, seemed a poor one to Miss Kitty,
who went to her bed in a sober mood that night, and
was heard telling her dear dollie, Martha Washington,
that "wars were mis'able, and that when she married

2S6 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

she should have a man who kept a candy-shop for a
husband, and not a soldier — no, Martha, not even if
he's as nice as papal" As Martha made no objection
to this little arrangement, being an obedient child,
they were both soon fast asleep.

The days of that cold winter of 1776 wore on; so
cold it was that the sufferings of the soldiers were great,
their bleeding feet often leaving marks on the pure
white snow over which they marched. As Christmas
drew near there was a feeling among the patriots that
some blow was about to be struck; but what it was,
and from whence they knew not; and, better than all,
the British had no idea that any strong blow could come
from Washington's army, weak and out of heart,
as they thought, after being chased through Jersey
by Comwallis.

Mrs. Tracy looked anxiously each day for news of
the husband and father only a few miles away, yet
so separated by the river and the enemy's troops
that they seemed like a hundred. Christmas Eve
came, but brought with it few rejoicings. The hearts
of the people were too sad to be taken up with merry-
making, although the Hessian soldiers in the town,
good-natured Germans, who only fought the Americans
because they were paid for it, gave themselves up to the
feasting and revelry.

"Shall we hang up our stockings?" asked Kitty, in
rather a doleful voice.

"Yes," said her mother, "Santa Claus won't forget

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 257

you, I am sure, although he has been kept pretty busy
looking after the soldiers this winter."

"Which side is he on?" asked Harry.

"The right side, of course," said Mrs. Tracy, which
was the most sensible answer she could possibly have
given. So :

" The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there."

Two little rosy faces lay fast asleep upon the pillow
when the good old soul came dashing over the roof
about one o'clock, and after filling each stocking with
red apples, and leaving a cornucopia of sugar-plums for
each child, he turned for a moment to look at the sleep-
ing faces, for St. Nicholas has a tender spot in his
great big heart for a soldier's children. Then, remem-
bering many other small folks waiting for him all
over the land, he sprang up the chimney and was
away in a trice.

Santa Glaus, in the form of Mrs. Tracy's farmer
brother, brought her a splendid turkey ; but because the
Hessians were uncommonly fond of turkey, it came hid-
den under a load of wood. Harry was very fond of tur-
key, too, as well as of all other good things ; but when his
mother said, "It's such a fine bird, it seems too bad to
eat it without father," Harry cried out, "Yes, keep it for
papa!" and Kitty, joining in the chorus, the vote was
unanimous, and the turkey was hung away to await the
return of the good soldier, although it seemed strange,

258 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

as Kitty told Martha Washington, "to have no papa
and no turkey on Christmas Day."

The day passed and night came, cold with a steady
fall of rain and sleet. Kitty prayed that her "dear
papa might not be out in the storm, and that he might
come home and wear his beautiful blue stockings";
"And eat his turkey," said Harry's sleepy voice; after
which they were soon in the land of dreams. Toward
morning the good people in Bordentown were suddenly
aroused by firing in the distance, which became more
and more distinct as the day wore on. There was great
excitement in the town; men and women gatheied
together in little groups in the streets to wonder what
it was all about, and neighbours came dropping into
Mrs. Tracy's parlour, all day long, one after the other,
to say what they thought of the firing. In the evening
there came a body of Hessians flying into the town, to
say that General Washington had surprised the British
at Trenton, early that morning, and completely routed
them, which so frightened the Hessians in Borden-
town that they left without the slightest ceremony.
It was a joyful hour to the good town people when the
red- jackets turned their backs on them, thinking every
moment that the patriot army would be after them.
Indeed, it seemed as if wonders would never cease
that day, for while rejoicings were still loud, over the
departure of the enemy, there came a knock at Mrs.
Tracy's door, and while she was wondering whether
she dared open it, it was pushed ajar, and a tall f^oldier

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 259

entered. What a scream of delight greeted that soldier,
and how Kitty and Harry danced about him and clung
to his knees, while Mrs. Tracy drew him toward the
warm blaze, and helped him off with his damp cloak!
Cold and tired Captain Tracy was, after a night's
march in the streets and a day's fighting; but he was
not too weary to smile at the dear faces around him,
or to pat Kitty's head when she brought his warm
stockings and would put them on the tired feet, her-
self.

Suddenly there was a sharp, quick bark outside
the door. "What's that? " cried Harry

"Oh, I forgot. Open the door. Here, Fido, Fido!"

Into the room there sprang a beautiful little King
Charles spaniel, white, with tan spots, and ears of
the longest, softest, and silkiest.

"What a Httle dear!" exclaimed Kitty; "where
did it come from? "

"From the battle of Trenton," said her father.
"His poor master was shot. After the red-coats
had turned their backs, and I was hurrying along one
of the streets where the fight had been the fiercest, I
heard a low groan, and, turning, saw a British officer
lying among a number of slain. I raised his head; he
begged for some water, which I brought him, and bend-
ing down my ear I heard him whisper, 'Dying — last
battle — say a prayer.' He tried to follow me in the
words of a prayer, and then, taking my hand, laid it on
something soft and warm, nestling close up to his

26o CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

breast — it was this little dog. The gentleman —
for he was a real gentleman — gasped out, 'Take care
of my poor Fido; good-night/ and was gone. It was
as much as I could do to get the little creature away
from his dead master; he clung to him as if he loved
him better than Hfe. You'll take care of him, won't
you, children? I brought him home to you, for a
Christmas present."

"Pretty little Fido," said Kitty, taking the soft,
curly creature in her arms; " I think it's the best present
in the world, and to-morrow is to be real Christmas,
because you are home, papa."

"And we'll eat the turkey," said Harry, "and shell-
barks, lots of them, that I saved for you. What a good
time we'll have! And oh, papa, don't go to war any
more, but stay at home, with mother and Kitty and
Fido and me."

"What would become of our country if we should
all do that, my little man? It was a good day's work
that we did this Christmas, getting the army all across
the river so quickly and quietly that we surprised the
enemy, and gained a victory, with the loss of few men."

Thus it was that some of the good people of 1776
spent their Christmas, that their children and grand-
children might spend many of them as citizens of a
free nation.

XXVIII
CHRISTMAS UNDER THE SNOW*

OLIVE THORNE MILLER

IT WAS just before Christmas, and Mr. Barnes
was starting for the nearest village. The family
were out at the door to see him start, and give him the
last charges.

"Don't forget the Christmas dinner, papa," said
Willie.

"'Specially the chickens for the pie!" put in Nora.

"An' the waisins," piped up little Tot, standing on
tiptoe to give papa a good-bye kiss.

"I hate to have you go, George," said Mrs. Barnes
anxiously. " It looks to me like a storm. "

"Oh, I guess it won't be much," said Mr. Barnes
lightly; "and the youngsters must have their Christ-
mas dinner, you know. "

"Well," said Mrs. Barnes, "remember this, George:
if there is a bad storm don't try to come back. Stay in
the village till it is over. We can get along alone for a
few days, can't we, Willie? " turning to the boy who was
giving the last touches to the harness of old Tim,
the horse.

*From "Kristy's Queer Christmas," Houghton, MiflBin & Co., 1904.

261

262 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"Oh, yes! Papa, I can take care of mamma," said
Willie earnestly.

"And get up the Christmas dinner out of nothing?"
asked papa, smiling.

"I don't know," said WiUie, hesitating, as he
remembered the proposed dinner, in which he felt a
deep interest.

"What could you do for the chicken pie?" went on
papa with a roguish look in his eye, "or the plum-
pudding?"

"Or the waisins?" broke in Tot anxiously.

"Tot has set her heart on the raisins," said papa,
tossing the small maiden up higher than his head, and
dropping her all laughing on the door-step, "and Tot

shaU have them sure, if papa can find them in S .

Now good-bye, all! Willie, remember to take care of
mamma, and I depend on you to get up a Christmas
dinner if I don't get back. Now, wife, don't worry!"
were his last words as the faithful old horse started
down the road.

Mrs. Barnes turned one more glance to the west,
where a low, heavy bank of clouds was slowly rising,
and went into the little house to attend to her morn-
ing duties.

"Willie," she said, when they were all in the snug
little log-cabin in which they lived, "I'm sure there's
going to be a storm, and it may be snow. You had
better prepare enough wood for two or three days;
Nora will help bring it in. "

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 263

"Me, too!" said grave little Tot.

"Yes, Tot may help too," said mamma.

This simple little home was a busy place, and soon
every one was hard at work. It was late in the after-
noon before the pile of wood, which had been steadily
growing all day, was high enough to satisfy Willie,
for now there was no doubt about the coming storm,
and it would probably bring snow; no one could guess
how much, in that country of heavy storms.

"I wish the village was not so far off, so that papa
could get back to-night," said Willie, as he came in
with his last load.

Mrs. Barnes glanced out of the window. Broad
scattering snowflakes were silently falling; the advance
guard, she felt them to be, of a numerous host.

"So do I," she replied anxiously, "or that he did not
have to come over that dreadful prairie, where it is
so easy to get lost."

"But old Tim knows the w^ay , even in the dark, " said
Willie proudly. "I believe Tim knows more'n some
folks."

"No doubt he does, about the way home," said
mamma, "and we won't worry about papa, but have
our supper and go to bed. That'll make the time
seem short. "

The meal was soon eaten and cleared away, the fire
carefully covered up on the hearth, and the whole little
family quietly in bed. Then the storm, which had been
making ready all day, came down upon them in earnest.

264 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

The bleak wind howled around the corners, the white
flakes by millions and millions came with it, and hurled
themselves upon that house. In fact, that poor little
cabin alone on the wide prairie seemed to be the object
of their sport. They sifted through the cracks in
the walls, around the windows, and under the door,
and made pretty little drifts on the floor. They piled
up against it outside, covered the steps, and then the
door, and then the windows, and then the roof, and
at last buried it completely out of sight under the soft,
white mass.

And all the time the mother and her three children
lay snugly covered up in their beds fast asleep, and
knew nothing about it.

The night passed away and morning came, but no
light broke through the windows of the cabin. Mrs.
Barnes woke at the usual time, but finding it still dark
and perfectly quiet outside, she concluded that the
storm was over, and with a sigh of relief turned over
to sleep again. About eight o'clock, however, she could
sleep no more, and became wide awake enough to think
the darkness strange. At that moment the clock struck,
and the truth flashed over her.

Being buried under snow is no uncommon thing on
the wide prairies, and since they had wood and corn-
meal in plenty, she would not have been much alarmed
if her husband had been home. But snow deep enough
to bury them must cover up all landmarks, and she
knew her husband would not rest till he had found

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 265

them. To get lost on the trackless prairie was fearfully
easy, and to suffer and die almost in sight of home was
no unusual thing, and was her one dread in living
there.

A few moments she lay quiet in bed, to calm herself
and get control of her own anxieties before she spoke
to the children.

" WiUie, " she said at last, " are you awake? "

"Yes, mamma," said Willie; "I've been awake ever
so long; isn't it most morning?"

"Willie," said the mother quietly, "we mustn't be
frightened, but I think — I'm afraid — we are snowed
in."

Willie bounded to his feet and ran to the door.

"Don't open it!" said mamma hastily; "the snow
may fall in. Light a candle and look out the window. "

In a moment the flickering rays of the candle fell
upon the window. Willie drew back the curtain.
Snow was tightly banked up against it to the top.

"Why, mamma, " he exclaimed, " so we are ! and how
can papa find us? and what shall we do? "

"We must do the best we can," said mamma, in a
voice which she tried to make steady, "and trust that
it isn't very deep, and that Tim and papa will find us,
and dig us out."

By this time the little girls were awake and inclined
to be very much frightened, but mamma was calm
now, and Willie was brave and hopeful.

They all dressed, and Willie started the fire. The

266 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

smoke refused to rise, but puffed out into the room,
and Mrs. Barnes knew that if the chimney were closed
they would probably suffocate, if they did not starve
or freeze.

The smoke in a few minutes choked them, and, seeing
that something must be done, she put the two girls,
well wrapped in blankets, into the shed outside the
back door, closed the door to keep out the smoVe, and
then went with Willie to the low attic, where a scuttle
door opened onto the roof.

"We must try," she said, *'to get it open without
letting in too much snow, and see if we can manage
to clear the chimney. "

"I can reach the chimney from the scuttle with a
shovel, " said Willie. " I often have with a stick. "

After much labour, and several small avalanches
of snow, the scuttle was opened far enough for Willie
to stand on the top round of the short ladder, and beat
a hole through to the light, which was only a foot
above. He then shovelled off the top of the chimney,
which was ornamented with a big round cushion of
snow, and then by beating and shovelling he was able
to clear the door, which he opened wide, and Mrs.
Barnes came up on the ladder to look out. Dreary in-
deed was the scene ! Nothing but snow as far as the eye
could reach, and flakes still falling, though lightly.
The storm was evidently almost over, but the sky was
gray and overcast.

They closed the door, went down, and soon had a

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 267

fire, hoping that the smoke would guide somebody
to them.

Breakfast was taken by candle-light, dinner —
in time — in the same way, and supper passed with
no sound from the outside world.

Many times Willie and mamma went to the scuttle
door to see if any one was in sight, but not a shadow
broke the broad expanse of white over which toward
night the sun shone. Of course there were no signs
of the roads, for through so deep snow none could
be broken, and until the sun and frost should form a
a crust on top there was little hope of their being
reached.

The second morning broke, and Willie hurried up
to his post of lookout the first thing. No person was
in sight, but he found a light crust on the snow, and the
first thing he noticed was a few half-starved birds
trying in vain to pick up something to eat. They
looked weak and almost exhausted, and a thought
struck Willie.

It was hard to keep up the courage of the little
household. Nora had openly lamented that to-night
was Christmas Eve, and no Christmas dinner to be
had. Tot had grown very tearful about her " waisins, "
and Mrs. Barnes, though she tried to keep up heart,
had become very pale and silent.

WilHe, though he felt unbounded faith in papa,
and especially in Tim, found it hard to suppress his own
complaints when he remembered that Christmas would

268 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

probably be passed in the same dismal way, with fears
for papa added to their own misery.

The wood, too, was getting low, and mamma dared
not let the fire go out, as that was the only sign of their
existence to anybody; and though she did not speak of
it, Willie knew, too, that they had not many candles,
and in two days at farthest they would be left in the
dark.

The thought that struck Wilhe pleased him greatly,
and he was sure it would cheer up the rest. He made
his plans, and went to work to carry them out without
saying anything about it.

He brought out of a corner of the attic an old box-
trap he had used in the summer to catch birds and smaU
animals, set it carefully on the snow, and scattered
crumbs of corn-bread to attract the birds.

In half an hour he went up again, and found to his
delight he had caught bigger game — a poor rabbit
which had come from no one knows where over the
crust to find food.

This gave Willie a new idea; they could save their
Christmas dinner after all; rabbits made very nice pies.
Poor Bunny was quietly laid to rest, and the trap set
again. This time another rabbit was caught, perhaps
the mate of the first. This was the last of the rabbits,
but the next catch was a couple of snowbirds. These
Willie carefully placed in a corner of the attic, using
the trap for a cage, and giving them plenty of food
and water.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 269

When the girls were fast asleep, with tears on their
cheeks for the dreadful Christmas they were going to
have, Willie told mamma about his plans. Mamma
was pale and weak with anxiety, and his news first
made her laugh and then cry. But after a few moments
given to her long pent-up tears, she felt much better
and entered into his plans heartily.

The two captives up in the attic were to be Christmas
presents to the girls, and the rabbits were to make the
long anticipated pie. As for plum-pudding, of course
that couldn't be thought of.

"But don't you think, mamma," said Willie eagerly,
"that you could make some sort of a cake out of meal,
and wouldn't hickory nuts be good in it? You know
I have some left up in the attic, and I might crack them
softly up there, and don't you think they would be
good?" he concluded anxiously.

"Well, perhaps so," said mamma, anxious to please
him and help him in his generous plans. "I can try.
If I only had some eggs — but seems to me I have heard
that snow beaten into cake would make it light — and
there's snow enough, I'm sure," she added with a faint
smile, the first Willie had seen for three days.

The smile alone he felt to be a great achievement,
and he crept carefully up the ladder, cracked the nuts
to the last one, brought them down, and mamma picked
the meats out, while he dressed the two rabbits which
had come so opportunely to be their Christmas dinner.

"Wish you Merry Christmas!" he called out to Nora

270 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

and Tot when they waked. "See what Santa Claus
has brought you!"

Before they had time to remember what a sorry
Christmas it was to be, they received their presents,
a Hve bird, for each, a bird that was never to be kept
in a cage, but fly about the house till summer came,
and then to go away if it wished.

Pets were scarce on the prairie, and the girls were
delighted. Nothing papa could have brought them
would have given them so much happiness.

They thought no more of the dinner, but hurried to
dress themselves and feed the birds, which were quite
tame from hunger and weariness. But after a while
they saw preparations for dinner, too. Mamma made
a crust and lined a deep dish — the chicken pie dish —
and then she brought a mysterious something out of the
cupboard, all cut up so that it looked as if it might be
chicken, and put it in the dish with other things, and
then she tucked them all under a thick crust, and set
it down in a tin oven before the fire to bake. And
that was not all. She got out some more cornmeal,
and made a batter, and put in some sugar and some-
thing else which she slipped in from a bowl, and which
looked in the batter something like raisins; and at the
last moment Willie brought her a cup of snow and she
hastily beat it into the cake, or pudding, whichever
you might call it, while the children laughed at the idea
of making a cake out of snow. This went into the same
oven and pretty soon it rose up light and showed a beau-

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 271

tiful brown crust, while the pie was steaming through
little fork holes on top, and sending out most delicious
odours.

At the last minute, when the table was set and
everything ready to come up, Willie ran up to look out
of the scuttle, as he had every hour of daylight since
they were buried. In a moment came a wild shout
down the ladder.

"They're coming ! Hurrah for old Tim ! "

Mamma rushed up and looked out, and saw — to be
sure — old Tim slowly coming along over the crust,
drawing after him a wood sled on which were two men.

"It's papa!" shouted Willie, waving his arms to
attract their attention.

" Willie ! " came back over the snow in tones of agony.
" Is that you? Are all well? "

"All welll" shouted Willie, "and just going to have
our Christmas dinner. "

"Dinner?" echoed papa, who was now nearer.
"Where is the house, then?"

"Oh, down here!" said Willie, "under the snow;
but we're all right, only we mustn't let the plum-
pudding spoil. "

Looking into the attic, Willie found that mamma had
fainted away, and this news brought to her aid papa
and the other man, who proved to be a good friend who
had come to help.

Tim was tied to the chimney, whose thread of smoke
had guided them home, and all went down into the

272 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

dark room. Mrs. Barnes soon recovered, and while
Willie dished up the smoking dinner, stories were told
on both sides.

Mr. Barnes had been trying to get through the
snow and to find them all the time, but until the last
night had made a stiff crust he had been unable to do so.

Then Mrs. Barnes told her story, winding up with
the account of Willie's Christmas dinner. "And if it
hadn't been for his keeping up our hearts I don't know
what would have become of us, " she said at last.

"Well, my son," said papa, "you did take care of
mamma, and get up a dinner out of nothing, sure
enough; and now we'll eat the dinner, which I am sure
is delicious. "

So it proved to be; even the cake, or pudding, which
Tot christened snow pudding, was voted very nice,
and the hickory nuts as good as raisins.

When they had finished, Mr. Barnes brought in his
packages, gave Tot and the rest some "sure-enough
waisins," and added his Christmas presents to Willie's;
but though all were overjoyed, nothing was quite so
nice in their eyes as the two live birds.

After dinner the two men and Willie dug out
passages from the doors, through the snow, which had
wasted a good deal, uncovered the windows, and made
a slanting way to his shed for old Tim. Then for two or
three days Willie made tunnels and little rooms under
the snow, and for two weeks, while the snow lasted, Nora
and Tot had fine times in the little snow playhouses.

XXIX

MR. BLUFF'S EXPERIENCES OF HOLIDAYS*

OLIVER BELL BUNCE

I HATE holidays," said Bachelor Bluff to me, with
some little irritation, on a Christmas a few years
ago. Then he paused an instant, after which he re-
sumed : " I don't mean to say that I hate to see people
enjoying themselves. But I hate holidays, never-
theless, because to me they are always the saddest and
dreariest days of the year. I shudder at the name of
hoUday. I dread the approach of one, and thank
heaven when it is over. I pass through, on a holiday,
the most horrible sensations, the bitterest feelings,
the most oppressive melancholy; in fact, I am not my-
self at holiday-times."

"Very strange," I ventured to interpose.

"A plague on it!" said he, almost with violence.
"I'm not inhuman. I don't wish anybody harm.
I'm glad people can enjoy themselves. But I hate
holidays all the same. You see, this is the reason:
I am a bachelor; I am without kin; I am in a place that
did not know me at birth. And so, when holidays

*Reprinted by permission of Moffat, Yard & Co., from Christmas, R. H.
Schauffler, Editor.

373

274 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

come around, there is no place anywhere for me. I
have friends, of course; I don't think I've been a very
sulky, shut-in, reticent fellow; and there is many a
board that has a place for me — but not at Christmas-
time. At Christmas, the dinner is a family gathering ;
and I've no family. There is such a gathering of kin-
dred on this occasion, such a reunion of family folk, that
there is no place for a friend, even if the friend be liked.
Christmas, with all its kindliness and charity and
good-will, is, after all, deuced selfish. Each little
set gathers within its own circle; and people like
me, with no particular circle, are left in the lurch.
So you see, on the day of all the days in the year
that my heart pines for good cheer, I'm without an
invitation.

"Oh, it's because I pine for good cheer," said the
bachelor, sharply, interrupting my attempt to speak,
"that I hate holidays. If I were an infernally selfish
fellow, I wouldn't hate holidays. I'd go off and have
some fun all to myself, somewhere or somehow. But,
you see, I hate to be in the dark when all the rest of
the world is in light. I hate holidays because I ought
to be merry and happy on holidays and can't.

"Don't tell me," he cried, stopping the word that
was on my lips; "I tell you, I hate holidays. The
shops look merry, do they, with their bright toys and
their green branches? The pantomime is crowded
with merry hearts, is it? The circus and the show are
brimful of fun and laughter, are they? Well, they all

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 275

make me miserable. I haven't any pretty-faced girls
or bright-eyed boys to take to the circus or the show,
and all the nice girls and fine boys of my acquaintance
have their uncles or their grand-dads or their cousins
to take them to those places; so, if I go, I must go
alone. But I don't go. I can't bear the chill of seeing
everybody happy, and knowing myself so lonely and
desolate. Confound it, sir, I've too much heart to be
happy under such circumstances ! I'm too humane, sir !
And the result is, I hate holidays. It's miserable to
be out, and yet I can't stay at home, for I get thinking
of Christmases past. I can't read — the shadow of
my heart makes it impossible. I can't walk — for
I see nothing but pictures through the bright windows,
and happy groups of pleasure-seekers. The fact is,
I've nothing to do but to hate holidays. But will you
not dine with me?"

Of course, I had to plead engagement with my own
family circle, and I couldn't quite invite Mr. Bluff
home that day, when Cousin Charles and his wife,
and Sister Susan and her daughter, and three of my
wife's kin had come in from the country, all to make a
merry Christmas with us. I felt sorry, but it was quite
impossible, so I wished Mr. Bluff a " Merry Christmas,"
and hurried homeward through the cold and nipping
air.

I did not meet Bachelor Bluff again until a week
after Christmas of the next year, when I learned some
Strange particulars of what occurred to him after our

276 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

parting on the occasion just described. I wiU let
Bachelor Bluff tell his adventure for himself:

"I went to church," said he, "and was as sad there
as everywhere else. Of course, the evergreens were
pretty, and the music fine; but all around me were
happy groups of people, who could scarcely keep down
merry Christmas long enough to do reverence to sacred
Christmas. And nobody was alone but me. Every
happy paterfamilias in his pew tantalized me, and the
whole atmosphere of the place seemed so much better
suited to every one else than me that I came away
hating holidays worse than ever. Then I went to the
play, and sat down in a box all alone by myself. Every-
body seemed on the best of terms with everybody else,
and jokes and banter passed from one to another with
the most good-natured freedom. Everybody but me
was in a little group of friends. I was the only person
in the whole theatre that was alone. And then there
was such clapping of hands, and roars of laughter, and
shouts of delight at all the fun going on upon the stage,
all of which was rendered doubly enjoyable by every-
body having somebody with whom to share and intern-
change the pleasure, that my loneliness got simply
unbearable, and I hated holidays infinitely worse than
ever.

"By five o'clock the holiday became so intolerable
that I said I'd go and get a dinner. The best dinner
the town could provide. A sumptuous dinner for one.
A dinner with many courses, with wines of the finest

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 277

brands, with bright lights, with a cheerful fire, with
every condition of comfort — and I'd see if I couldn't
for once extract a little pleasure out of a holiday 1

"The handsome dining-room at the club looked
bright, but it was empty. Who dines at this club
on Christmas but lonely bachelors? There was a
flutter of surprise when I ordered a dinner, and the few
attendants were, no doubt, glad of something to break
the monotony of the hours.

"My dinner was well served. The spacious room
looked lonely; but the white, snowy cloths, the rich
window hangings, the warm tints of the walls, the
sparkle of the fire in the steel grate, gave the room an
air of elegance and cheerfulness; and then the table at
which I dined was close to the window, and through
the partly drawn curtains were visible centres of lonely,
cold streets, with bright lights from many a window,
it is true, but there was a storm, and snow began
whirling through the street. I let my imagination
paint the streets as cold and dreary as it would, just
to extract a little pleasure by way of contrast from the
brilliant room of which I was apparently sole master.

"I dined well, and recalled in fancy old, youthful
Christmases, and pledged mentally many an old friend,
and my melancholy was mellowing into a low, sad
undertone, when, just as I was raising a glass of wine
to my lips, I was startled by a picture at the window-
pane. It was a pale, wild, haggard face, in a great
cloud of black hair, pressed against the glass. As

f78 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

I looked it vanished. With a strange thrill at my
heart, which my lips mocked with a derisive sneer,
I finished the wine and set down the glass. It was,
of course, only a beggar-girl that had crept up to the
window and stole a glance at the bright scene within;
but still the pale face troubled me a little, and threw
a fresh shadow on my heart. I filled my glass once
more with wine, and was again about to drink, when
the face reappeared at the window. It was so white,
so thin, with eyes so large, wild, and hungry-looking,
and the black, unkempt hair, into which the snow
had drifted, formed so strange and weird a frame to
the picture, that I was fairly startled. Replacing,
untasted, the liquor on the table, I rose and went close
to the pane. The face had vanished, and I could see
no object within many feet of the window. The storm
had increased, and the snow was driving in wild gusts
through the streets, which were empty, save here and
there a hurrying wayfarer. The whole scene was cold,
wild, and desolate, and I could not repress a keen thrill
of sympathy for the child, whoever it was, whose only
Christmas was to watch, in cold and storm, the rich
banquet ungratefully enjoyed by the lonely bachelor.
I resumed my place at the table; but the dinner was
finished, and the wine had no further relish. I was
haunted by the vision at the window, and began, with
an unreasonable irritation at the interruption, to
repeat with fresh warmth my detestation of holidays.
One couldn't even dine alone on a holiday with any

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 279

sort of comfort, I declared. On holidays one was
tormented by too much pleasure on one side, and too
much misery on the other. And then, I said, hunting
for justification of my dislike of the day, 'How many
other people are, like me, made miserable by seeing the
fullness of enjoyment others possess!'

" Oh, yes, I know, " sarcastically replied the bachelor
to a comment of mine; "of course, all magnanimous,
generous, and noble-souled people delight in seeing
other people made happy, and are quite content to
accept this vicarious felicity. But I, you see, and this
dear little girl "

''Dear little girl?"

"Oh, I forgot," said Bachelor Bluff, blushing a
little, in spite of a desperate effort not to do so. "I
didn't tell you. Well, it was so absurd! I kept
thinking, thinking of the pale, haggard, lonely little
girl on the cold and desolate side of the window-pane,
and the over-fed, discontented, lonely old bachelor
on the splendid side of the window-pane, and I didn't
get much happier thinking about it, I can assure
you. I drank glass after glass of the wine — not that
I enjoyed its flavour any more, but mechanically, as
it were, and with a sort of hope thereby to drown
unpleasant reminders. I tried to attribute my annoy-
ance in the matter to holidays, and so denounced them
more vehemently than ever. I rose once in a while and
went to the window, but could see no one to whom the
pale face could have belonged.

28o CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"At last, in no very amiable mood, I got up, put on
my wrappers, and went out; and the first thing I did
was to run against a small figure crouching in the door-
way. A face looked up quickly at the rough encounter,
and I saw the pale features of the window-pane. I
was very irritated and angry, and spoke harshly; and
then, all at once, I am sure I don't know how it hap-
pened, but it flashed upon me that I, of all men, had
no right to utter a harsh word to one oppressed with
so wretched a Christmas as this poor creature was.
I couldn't say another word, but began feeling in my
pocket for some money, and then I asked a question
or two, and then I don't quite know how it came
about — isn't it very warm here?" exclaimed Bachelor
Bluff, rising and walking about, and wiping the
perspiration from his brow.

"Well, you see," he resumed nervously, "it was very
absurd, but I did believe the girl's story — the old
story, you know, of privation and suffering, and just
thought I'd go home with the brat and see if what she
said was all true. And then I remembered that all
the shops were closed, and not a purchase could be
made. I went back and persuaded the steward to
put up for me a hamper of provisions, which the half-
wild little youngster helped me carry through the
snow, dancing with delight all the way. And isn't
this enough?"

"Not a bit, Mr. Bluff. I must h^ve the whole
story."

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 28t

*'I declare," said Bachelor Bluff, "there's no whole
story to tell. A widow with children in great need,
that was what I found; and they had a feast that
night, and a little money to buy them a load of wood
and a garment or two the next day; and they were all
so bright, and so merry, and so thankful, and so good,
that, when I got home that night, I was mightily
amazed that, instead of going to bed sour at holidays,
I was in a state of great contentment in regard to
holidays. In fact, I was really merry. I whistled.
I sang. I do believe I cut a caper. The poor wretches
I had left had been so merry over their unlooked-for
Christmas banquet that their spirits infected mine.

"And then I got thinking again. Of course, holi-
days had been miserable to me, I said. What right
had a well-to-do, lonely old bachelor hovering wistfully
in the vicinity of happy circles, when all about there
were so many people as lonely as he, and yet oppressed
with want? 'Good gracious!' I exclaimed, 'to think
of a man complaining of loneliness with thousands
of wretches yearning for his help and comfort, with
endless opportunities for work and company, with
hundreds of pleasant and dehghtful things to do.
Just to think of it! It put me in a great fury at my-
self to think of it. I tried pretty hard to escape from
myself and began inventing excuses and all that sort
of thing, but I rigidly forced myself to look squarely
at my own conduct. And then I reconciled my con-
science by declaring that, if ever after that day I hated

282 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

a holiday again, might my hoHdays end at once and
forever !

"Did I go and see my proteges again? What a
question! Why — well, no matter. If the widow
is comfortable now, it is because she has found a way
to earn without difficulty enough for her few wants.
That's no fault of mine. I would have done more
for her, but she wouldn't let me. But just let me tell
you about New Year's — the New- Year's day that
followed the Christmas I've been describing. It was
lucky for me there was another holiday only a week
off. Bless you! I had so much to do that day I
was completely bewildered, and the hours weren't
half long enough. I did make a few social calls,
but then I hurried them over; and then hastened to
my little girl, whose face had already caught a touch
of colour; and she, looking quite handsome in her new
frock and her ribbons, took me to other poor folk, and,
— well, that's about the whole story.

"Oh, as to the next Christmas. Well, I didn't
dine alone, as you may guess. It was up three stairs,
that's true, and there was none of that elegance that
marked the dinner of the year before ; but it was merry^
and happy, and bright; it was a generous, honest,
hearty Christmas dinner, that it was, although I do
wish the widow hadn't talked so much about the
mysterious way a turkey had been left at her door the
night before. And Molly — that's the little girl —
and I had a rousing appetite. We went to church

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 283

early; then we had been down to the Five Points to
carry the poor outcasts there something for their
Christmas dinner; in fact, we had done wonders of
work, and Molly was in high spirits, and so the Christ-
mas dinner was a great success.

"Dear me, sir, no! Just as you say. HoHdays
are not in the least wearisome any more. Plague on it !
When a man tells me now that he hates holidays, I find
myself getting very wroth. I pin him by the button-
hole at once, and tell him my experience. The
fact is, if I were at dinner on a holiday, and anybody
should ask me for a sentiment, I should say, 'God
bless all holidays !' "

XXX

MASTER SANDY'S SNAPDRAGON*

ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS

THERE was just enough of December in the air
and of May in the sky to make the Yuletide of
the year of grace 1611 a time of pleasure and deUght
to every boy and girl in "Merrie England" from the
princely children in stately Whitehall to the humblest
pot-boy and scullery-girl in the hall of the country
squire.

And in the palace at Whitehall even the cares of state
gave place to the sports of this happy season. For
that "Most High and Mighty Prince James, by the
Grace of God King of Great Britain, France, and Ire-
land" — as you will find him styled in your copy of
the Old Version, or what is known as "King James'
Bible" — loved the Christmas festivities, cranky,
crabbed, and crusty though he was. And this year he
felt especially gracious. For now, first since the terror
of the Guy Fawkes plot which had come to naught
full seven years before, did the timid king feel secure
on his throne; the translation of the Bible, on which so
many learned men had been for years engaged, had

*This story was first published in Wide Awake, vol. 26.

284

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 285

just been issued from the press of Master Robert Baker;
and, lastly, much profit was coming into the royal
treasury from the new lands in the Indies and across
the sea.

So it was to be a Merry Christmas in the palace at
Whitehall. Great were the preparations for its cele-
bration, and the Lord Henry, the handsome, wise and
popular young Prince of Wales, whom men hoped some
day to hail as King Henry of England, was to take part
in a jolly Christmas mask, in which, too, even the
little Prince Charles was to perform for the edification
of the court when the mask should be shown in the new
and gorgeous banqueting hall of the palace.

And to-night it was Christmas Eve. The Little
Prince Charles and the Princess Elizabeth could
scarcely wait for the morrow, so impatient were they
to see all the grand devisings that were in store for
them. So good Master Sandy, under-tutor to the
Prince, proposed to wise Archie Armstrong, the King's
jester, that they play at snapdragon for the children
in the royal nursery.

The Prince and Princess clamoured for the promised
game at once, and soon the flicker from the flaming bow
lighted up the darkened nursery as, around the witch-
like caldron, they watched their opportunity to snatch
the lucky raisin. The room rang so loudly with fun
and laughter that even the King himself, big of head
and rickety of legs, shambled in good-humouredly to
join in the sport that was giving so much pleasure to the

^§6 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

royal boy he so dearly loved, and whom he always
called "Baby Charles."

But what was snapdragon, you ask? A simple
enough game, but dear for many and many a year to
English children. A broad and shallow bowl or dish
half-filled with blazing brandy, at the bottom of which
lay numerous toothsome raisins — a rare tidbit in those
days — and one of these, pierced with a gold button,
was known as the " lucky raisin. " Then, as the flaming
brandy flickered and darted from the yawning bowl,
even as did the flaming poison tongues of the cruel
dragon that St. George of England conquered so
valiantly, each one of the revellers sought to snatch
a raisin from the burning bowl without singe or scar.
And he who drew out the lucky raisin was winner and
champion, and could claim a boon or reward for his
superior skill. Rather a dangerous game, perhaps
it seems, but folks were rough players in those old days
and laughed at a burn or a bruise, taking them as part
of the fun.

So around Master Sandy's Snapdragon danced the
royal children, and even the King himself condescended
to dip his royal hands in the flames, while Archie
Armstrong the jester cried out: "Now fair and softly,
brother Jamie, fair and softly, man. There's ne'er
a plum in all that plucking so worth the burning as
there was in Signor Guy Fawkes' snapdragon when
ye proved not to be his lucky raisin." For King's
jesters were privileged characters in the old days, and

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 287

jolly Archie Armstrong could joke with the King on this
Guy Fawkes scare as none other dared.

And still no one brought out the lucky raisin, though
the Princess Elizabeth's fair arm was scotched and good
Master Sandy's peaked beard was singed, and my Lord
Montacute had dropped his signet ring in the fiery
dragon's mouth, and even His Gracious Majesty the
King was nursing one of his royal fingers.

But just as through the parted arras came young
Henry, Prince of Wales, little Prince Charles gave a
boyish shout of triumph.

"Hey, huzzoy!" he cried, "'tis mine, *tis mine!
Look, Archie; see, dear dad; I have the lucky raisin!
A boon, good folk; a boon for me!" And the excited
lad held aloft the lucky raisin in which gleamed the
golden button.

"Rarely caught, young York," cried Prince Henry,
clapping his hands in applause. "I came in right in
good time, did I not, to give you luck, little brother?
And now, lad, what is the boon to be? "

And King James, greatly pleased at whatever his
dear "Baby Charles" said or did, echoed his eldest son's
question. "Ay lad, 'twas a rare good dip; so crave
your boon. What does my bonny boy desire? "

But the boy hesitated. What was there that a royal
prince, indulged as was he, could wish for or desire?
He really could think of nothing, and crossing quickly
to his elder brother, whom, boy-fashion, he adored, he
whispered, "Ud's fish, Hal, what do I want?"

288 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

Prince Henry placed his hand upon his brother's
shoulder and looked smilingly into his questioning
eyes, and all within the room glanced for a moment
at the two lads standing thus.

And they were well worth looking at. Prince Henry
of Wales, tall, comely, open-faced, and well-built, a
noble lad of eighteen who called to men's minds, so
"rare Ben Jonson" says, the memory of the hero of
Agincourt, that other

thunderbolt of war,
Harry the Fifth, to whom in face you are
So like, as Fate would have you so in worth;

Prince Charles, royal Duke of York, Knight of the
Garter and of the Bath, fair in face and form, an active,
manly, daring boy of eleven — the princely brothers
made so fair a sight that the King, jealous and sus-
spicious of Prince Henry's popularity though he was,
looked now upon them both with loving eyes. But
how those loving eyes would have grown dim wth tears
could this fickle, selfish, yet indulgent father have
foreseen the sad and bitter fates of both his handsome
boys.

But, fortunately, such foreknowledge is not for
fathers or mothers, whatever their rank or station, and
King James's only thought was one of pride in the
two brave lads now whispering together in secret con-
fidence. And into this he speedily broke.

"Come, come. Baby Charles," he cried, "stand no

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 289

more parleying, but out and over with the boon ye
crave as guerdon for your lucky plum. Ud's fish, lad,
out with it; we'd get it for ye though it did rain jeddert
staves here in Whitehall. "

"So please your Grace," said the little Prin£e,
bowing low with true courtier-like grace and suavity,
"I will, with your permission, crave my boon as a
Christmas favor at wassail time in to-morrow's
revels."

And then he passed from the chamber arm-in-arm
with his elder brother, while the King, chuckling greatly
over the lad's show of courtliness and ceremony, went
into a learned discussion with my lord of Montacute
and Master Sandy as to the origin of the snapdragon,
which he, with his customary assumption of deep learn-
ing, declared was "but a modern paraphrase, my lord,
of the fable which telleth how Dan Hercules did kill
the flaming dragon of Hesperia and did then, with
the apple of that famous orchard, make a fiery dish
of burning apple brandy which he did name 'snap-
dragon,' "

For King James VI of Scotland and I of England
was, you see, something too much of what men call a
pendant.

Christmas morning rose bright and glorious. A
light hoarfrost whitened the ground and the keen De-
cember air nipped the noses as it hurried the song-notes
of the score of little waifs who, gathered beneath the
windows of the big palace, sung for the happy awaking

290 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

of the young Prince Charles their Christmas carol and
their Christmas noel :

A child this day is bom,

A child of great renown;
Most worthy of a sceptre,

A sceptre and a crown.

Noel, noel, noel,

Noel sing we may
Because the King of all Kings

Was born this blessed day.

These tidings shepherds heard

In field watching their fold,
Were by an angel unto them

At night revealed and told.

Noel, noel, noel,

Noel sing we may
Because the King of all Kings

Was born this blessed day.

He brought unto them tidings

Of gladness and of mirth,
Which Cometh to all people by

This holy infant's birth.

Noel, noel, noel,

Noel sing we may
Because the King of all Kings

Was born this blessed day.

The "blessed day" wore on. Gifts and sports filled
the happy hours. In the royal banqueting hall the
Christmas dinner was royally set and served, and King

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES igi

and Queen and Princes, with attendant nobles and
holiday guests, partook of the strong dishes of those
old days of hearty appetites.

"A shield of brawn with mustard, boyl'd capon, a
chine of beef roasted, a neat's tongue roasted, a pig
roasted, chewets baked, goose, swan and turkey
roasted, a haunch of venison roasted, a pasty of venison,
a kid stuffed with pudding, an olive-pye, capons and
dowsets, sallats and fricases" — all these and much
more, witb strong beer and spiced ale to wash the
dinner down, crowned the royal board, while the great
boar's head and the Christmas pie, borne in with great
parade, were placed on the table joyously decked with
holly and rosemary and bay. It was a great ceremony
— this bringing in of the boar's head. First came an
attendant, so the old record tells us,

"attyr'd in a horseman's coat with a Boares-speare
in his hande; next to him another huntsman in greene,
with a bloody faulchion drawne; next to him two pages
in tafatye sarcenet, each of them with a messe of mus-
tard; next to whom came hee that carried the Boares-
head, crosst with a greene silk scarfe, by which hunge
the empty scabbard of the faulchion which was car-
ried before him."

After the dinner — the boar's head having been
wrestled for by some of the royal yeomen — came the
wassail or health-drinking. Then the King said :

"And now, Baby Charles, let us hear the boon ye
were to crave of us at wassail as the guerdon for the

292 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

holder of the lucky raisin in Master Sandy's snap-
dragon."

And the little eleven-year-old Prince stood up before
the company in all his brave attire, glanced at his
brother Prince Henry, and then facing the King said
boldly:

" I pray you, my father and my liege, grant me as the
boon I ask — the freeing of Walter Raleigh. "

At this altogether startling and unlooked-for request,
amazement and consternation appeared on the faces
around the royal banqueting board, and the King put
down his untasted tankard of spiced ale, while surprise,
doubt and anger quickly crossed the royal face. For
Sir Walter Raleigh, the favourite of Queen Elizabeth,
the lord-proprietor and colonizer of the American
colonies, and the sworn foe to Spain, had been now
close prisoner in the Tower for more than nine
years, hated and yet dreaded by this fickle King
James, who dared not put him to death for fear of
the people to whom the name and valour of Raleigh
were dear.

"Hoot, chiel!" cried the King at length, splutter-
ing wrathfuUy in the broadest of his native Scotch,
as was his habit when angered or surprised. "Ye
reckless fou, wha hae put ye to sic a jackanape trick?
Dinna ye ken that sic a boon is nae for a laddie like
you to meddle wi'? Wha hae put ye to't, I say? "

But ere the young Prince could reply, the stately
and solemn-faced ambassador of Spain, the Count of

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 293

Gondemar, arose in the place of honour he filled as a
guest of the King.

"My Lord King," he said, "I beg your majesty to
bear in memory your pledge to my gracious master
King Philip of Spain, that naught save grave cause
should lead you to liberate from just durance that arch
enemy of Spain, the Lord Raleigh."

"But you did promise me, my lord," said Prince
Charles, hastily, "and you have told me that the royal
pledge is not to be lightly broken. "

"Ma certie, lad, "said King James, "ye maun ay learn
that there is nae rule wi'out its aicciptions. " And
then he added, "A pledge to a boy in play, like to ours
of yester-eve. Baby Charles, is not to be kept when
matters of state conflict. " Then turning to the Spanish
ambassador, he said: "Rest content, my lord count.
This recreant Raleigh shall not yet be loosed. "

"But, my liege," still persisted the boy prince, "my
brother Hal did say "

The wrath of the King burst out afresh.

"Ay, said you so? Brother Hal, indeed!" he cried.
"I thought the wind blew from that quarter," and he
angrily faced his eldest son. "So, sirrah; 'twas you
that did urge this foolish boy to work your traitorous
purpose in such coward guise!"

"My liege," said Prince Henry, rising in his place,
"traitor and coward are words I may not calmly hear
even from my father and my king. You wrong me
foully when you use them thus. For though I do be-

294 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

think me that the Tower is but a sorry cage in which to
keep so grandly plumed a bird as my Lord of Raleigh,
I did but seek "

" Ay, you did but seek to curry favour with the craven
crowd," burst out the now thoroughly angry King,
always jealous of the popularity of this brave young
Prince of Wales. "And am I, sirrah, to be badgered
and browbeaten in my own palace by such a thriftless
ne'er-do-weel as you, ungrateful boy, who seekest
to gain preference with the people in this realm before
your liege lord the King? Quit my presence, sirrah,
and that instanter, ere that I do send you to spend your
Christmas where your great-grandfather. King Henry,
bade his astrologer spend his — in the Tower, there to
keep company with your fitting comrade, Raleigh,
the traitor!"

Without a word in reply to this outburst, with a son's
submission, but with a royal dignity. Prince Henry bent
his head before his father's decree and withdrew from
the table, followed by the gentlemen of his household.
But ere he could reach the arrased doorway, Prince
Charles sprang to his side and cried, valiantly: "Nay
then, if he goes so do I ! 'Twas surely but a Christmas
joke and of my own devising. Spoil not our revel, my
gracious liege and father, on this of all the year's red-
letter days, by turning my thoughtless frolic into such
bitter threatening. I did but seek to test the worth
of Master Sandy's lucky raisin by asking for as wildly
great a boon as might be thought upon. Brother Hal,

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 295

too, did but give me his advising in joke even as I did
seek it. None here, my royal father, would brave your
sovereign displeasure by any unknightly or unloyal
scheme."

The gentle and dignified words of the young prince — •
for Charles Stuart, though despicable as a king, was
ever loving and loyal as a friend — were as oil upon the
troubled waters. The ruflOied temper of the ambassador
of Spain — who in after years really did work Raleigh's
downfall and death — gave place to courtly bows, and
the King's quick anger melted away before the dearly
loved voice of his favourite son.

"Nay, resume your place, son Hal," he said, "and
you, gentlemen all, resume your seats, I pray. I too
did but jest as did Baby Charles here — a sad young
wag, I fear me, is this same young Prince. "

But as, after the wassail, came the Christmas mask,
in which both Princes bore their parts. Prince Charles
said to Archie Armstrong, the King's jester:

"Faith, good Archie; now is Master Sandy's snap-
dragon but a false beast withal, and his lucky raisin is
but an evil fruit that pays not for the plucking. "

And wise old Archie only wagged his head and
answered, "Odd zooks, Cousin Charlie, Christmas
raisins are not the only fruit that burns the fingers in
the plucking, and mayhap you too may live to know
that a mettlesome horse never stumbleth but when
he is reined."

Poor "Cousin Charlie" did not then understand the

296 CHELDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

full meaning of the wise old jester's words, but he did
live to learn their full intent. For when, in after years,
his people sought to curb his tyrannies with a revolt
that ended only with his death upon the scaffoM,
outside this very banqueting house at Whitehall,
Charles Stuart learned all too late that a " mettlesome
horse" needed sometimes to be "reined," and heard,
too late as well, the stern declaration of the Commons
of England that "no chief officer might presume for
the future to contrive the enslaving and destruction
of the nation with impunity. "

But though many a merry and many a happy day
had the young Prince Charles before the dark tragedy
of his sad and sorry manhood, he lost all faith in lucky
raisins. Not for three years did Sir Walter Raleigh —
whom both the Princes secretly admired — obtain
release from the Tower, and ere three more 3^ears were
past his head fell as a forfeit to the stern demands of
Spain. And Prince Charles often declared that
naught indeed could come from meddling with luck
saving burnt fingers, "even," he said, "as came to me
that profitless night when I sought a boon for snatching
the lucky raisin from good Master Sandy's Christmas
snapdragon. "

XXXI
A CHRISTMAS FAIRY*

JOHN STRANGE WINTER

IT was getting very near to Christmas time, and
all the boys at Miss Ware's school were talking
about going home for the holidays.

" I shall go to the Christmas festival," said Bertie
Fellows, "and my mother will have a party, and my
Aunt will give another. Oh! I shall have a splendid
time at home."

" My Uncle Bob is going to give me a pair of
skates,' ' remarked Harry Wadham.

" My father is going to give me a bicycle," put in
George Alderson.

" Will you bring it back to school with you ?" asked
Harry.

" Oh! yes, if Miss Ware doesn't say no."

" Well, Tom," cried Bertie, " where are you going
to spend your holidays? "

" I am going to stay here," answered Tom in a very
forlorn voice.

" Here — at school — oh, dear ! Why can't you go
home?"

*Reprinted with the permission of the Henry Altemus Compaxiy.

297

298 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

" I can't go home to India," answered Tom.

"Nobody said you could. But haven't you any
relatives anywhere ?"

Tom shook his head. "Only in India," he said sadly.

"Poor fellow! That's hard luck for you. I'll
tell you what it is, boys, if I couldn't go home for the
holidays, especially at Christmas — I think I would
just sit down and die."

" Oh, no, you wouldn't," said Tom. " You would get
ever so homesick, but you wouldn't die. You would just
get through somehow, and hope something would hap-
pen before next year, or that some kind fairy would ' '

"There are no fairies nowadays," said Bertie.
" See here, Tom, I'll write and ask my mother to invite
you to go home with me for the holidays."

"Will you really?"

" Yes, I will. And if she says yes, we shall have such
a splendid time. We live in London, you know,
and have lots of parties and fun."

" Perhaps she will say no?" suggested poor little Tom.

"My mother isn't the kind that says no," Bertie
declared loudly.

In a few days' time a letter arrived from Bertie's
mother. The boy opened it eagerly. It said:

My Own Dear Bertie:

I am very sorry to tell you that little Alice is ill with scarlet
fever. And so you cannot come for your holidays. I would
have been glad to have you bring your little friend with you
if all had been well here.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 299

Your father and I have decided that the best thing that you
can do is to stay at Miss Ware's. We shall send your Christ-
mas to you as well as we can.

It will not be like coming home, but I am sure you will try
to be happy, and make me feel that you are helping me in this
sad time.

Dear little Ahce is very ill, very ill indeed. Tell Tom that I
am sending you a box for both of you, with two of everything.
And tell him that it makes me so much happier to know that
you will not be alone.

Your Own Mother.

When Bertie Fellows received this letter, which
ended all his Christmas hopes and joys, he hid his
face upon his desk and sobbed aloud. The lonely
boy from India, who sat next to him, tried to comfort
his friend in every way he could think of. He patted
his shoulder and whispered many kind words to him.

At last Bertie put the letter into Tom's hands.
"Read it," he sobbed.

So then Tom understood the cause of Bertie's grief.
"Don't fret over it," he said at last. "It might be
worse. Why, your father and mother might be thou-
sands of miles away, like mine are. When Ahce is
better, you will be able to go home. And it will help
your mother if she thinks you are almost as happy
as if you could go now."

Soon Miss Ware came to tell Bertie how sorry she
was for him.

"After all," said she, smiling down on the two boys,
"it is an ill wind that blows nobody good. Poor Tom

3CX) CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

has been expecting to spend his holidays alone, and now
he will have a friend with him. Try to look on the
bright side, Bertie, and to remember how much worse
it would have been if there had been no boy to stay
with you."

"I can't help being disappointed, Miss Ware,"
said Bertie, his eyes filling with tears.

"No; you would be a strange boy if you were not.
But I want you to try-.to think of your poor mother,
and write her as cheerfully as you can."

"Yes," answered Bertie; but his heart was too full
to say more.

The last day of the term came, and one by one, or
two by two, the boys went away, until only Bertie
and Tom were left in the great house. It had never
seemed so large to either of them before.

"It's miserable," groaned poor Bertie, as they
strolled into the schoolroom. "Just think if we were
on our way home now — how different."

"Just think if I had been left here by myself,"
said Tom.

"Yes," said Bertie, "but you know when one wants
to go home he never thinks of the boys that have no
home to go to."

The evening passed, and the two boys went to bea.
They told stories to each other for a long time before
they could go to sleep. That night they dreamed of
their homes, and felt very lonely. Yet each tried
to be brave, and so another day began.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 301

This was the day before Christmas. Quite early
in the morning came the great box of which Bertie's
mother had spoken in her letter. Then, just as
dinner had come to an end, there was a peal at
the bell, and a voice was heard asking for Tom
Egerton.

Tom sprang to his feet, and flew to greet a tall,
handsome lady, crying, "Aunt Laura! Aunt Laura!"

And Laura explained that she and her husband had
arrived in London only the day before. "I was so
afraid, Tom," she said, "that we should not get here
until Christmas Day was over and that you would
be disappointed. So I would not let your mother
write you that we were on our way home. You
must get your things packed up at once, and go back
with me to London. Then uncle and I will give you
a splendid time."

For a minute or two Tom's face shone with delight.
Then he caught sight of Bertie and turned to his
aunt.

"Dear Aunt Laura," he said, "I am very sorry, but
I can't go."

" Can't go? and why not? "

"Because I can't go and leave Bertie here all alone,"
he said stoutly. "When I was going to be alone he
wrote and asked his mother to let me go home with
him. She could not have either of us because Bertie's
sister has scarlet fever. He has to stay here, and he
has never been away from home at Christmas time

302 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

before, and I can't go away and leave him by himself,
Aunt Laura. "

For a minute Aunt Laura looked at the boy as if
she could not believe him. Then she caught him in her
arms and kissed him.

"You dear Httle boy, you shall not leave him. You
shall bring him along, and we shall all enjoy ourselves
together. Bertie, my boy, you are not very old yet,
but I am going to teach you a lesson as well as I can.
It is that kindness is never wasted in this world."

And so Bertie and Tom found that there was such
a thing as a fairy after all.

XXXII

THE GREATEST OF THESE*

JOSEPH MILLS HANSON

THE outside door swung open suddenly, letting a
cloud of steam into the small, hot kitchen.
Charlie Moore, a milk pail in one hand, a lantern in
the other, closed the door behind him with a bang, set
the pail on the table and stamped the snow from his
feet.

"There's the milk, and I near froze gettin' it,"
said he, addressing his partner, who was chopping
potatoes in a pan on the stove.

"Dose vried bodadoes vas burnt," said the other,
wielding his knife vigorously.

"Are, eh? Why didn't you watch 'em instead of
readin' your old Scandinavian paper?" answered
Charlie, hanging his overcoat and cap behind the door
and laying his mittens under the stove to dry. Then
he drew up a chair and with much exertion pulled
off his heavy felt boots and stood them beside his
mittens.

"Why didn't you shut the gate after you came in
from town? The cows got out and went up to Roney's

•This story was first printed in the Youth's Companion, vol. 76.

303

304 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

an' I had to chase 'em; 'tain't any joke runnin'
round after cows such a night as this." Having
relieved his mind of its grievance, Charlie sat down
before the oven door, and, opening it, laid a stick
of wood along its outer edge and thrust his feet
into the hot interior, propping his heels against the
stick.

"Look oud for dese har biscuits!" exclaimed his
partner, anxiously.

"Oh, hang the biscuits!" was Charlie's hasty answer.
" I'll watch 'em. Why didn't you? "

"Ay tank Ay fergit hem."

"Well, you don't want to forget. A feller forgot
his clothes once, an' he got froze."

"Ay gass dose faller vas ketch in a sbring snowstorm.
Vas dose biscuits done, Sharlie?"

"You bet they are, Nels," replied Charlie, looking
into the pan.

"Dan subbar vas ready. Yom on!"

Nels picked up the frying-pan and Charlie the
biscuits, and set them on the oilcloth-covered table,
where a plate of butter, a jar of plum jelly, and a
coffee-pot were already standing.

Outside the frozen kitchen window the snow-covered
fields and meadows stretched, glistening and silent,
away to the dark belt of timber by the river. Along
the deep-rutted road in front a belated lumber-wagon
passed slowly, the wheels crunching through the packed
snow with a wavering, incessant shriek.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 305

The two men hitched their chairs up to the table,
and without ceremony helped themselves liberally
to the steaming food. For a few moments they seemed
oblivious to everything but the demands of hunger.
The potatoes and biscuits disappeared with surprising
rapidity, washed down by large drafts of coffee.
These men, labouring steadily through the short day-
light hours in the dry, cold air of the Dakota winter,
were like engines whose fires had burned low — they
were taking fuel. Presently, the first keen edge of
appetite satisfied, they ate more slowly, and Nels,
straightening up with a sigh, spoke :

''Ay seen Seigert in town ta-day. Ha vants von
hundred fifty fer dose team."

"Come down, eh?" commented Charlie. "Well,
they're worth that. We'd better take 'em, Nels.
We'll need 'em in the spring if we break the north
forty."

"Yas, et's a nice team," agreed Nels. " Ha vas
driven ham ta-day."

"Is he haulin' corn?"

" Na; he had his kids oop gettin' Christmas bresents."

"Chris — By gracious! to-morrow's Christmas!"

Nels nodded solemnly, as one possessing superior
knowledge. Charlie became thoughtful.

"We'll come in sort of slim on it here, I reckon,
Nels. Christmas ain't right, somehow, out here.
Back in Wisconsin, where I came from, there's where
you get your Christmas!" Charlie spoke with the

3o6 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

unswerving prejudice of mankind for the land of his
birth.

" Yas, dose been right. En da ol' kontry dey havin'
gret times Christmas."

Their thoughts were all bent now upon the holiday
scenes of the past. As they finished the meal and
cleared away and washed the dishes they related
incidents of their boyhood's time, compared, reiterated,
and embellished. As they talked they grew jovial,
and laughed often.

"The skee broke an' you went over kerplunk, hey?
Haw, haw! That reminds me of one time in Wis-
consin "

Something of the joyous spirit of the Christmas-
tide seemed to have entered into this little farmhouse
set in the midst of the lonely, white fields. In the
hearts of these men, moving about in their dim-lighted
room, was reechoed the joyous murmur of the great
world without: the gayety of the throngs in city streets,
where the brilliant shop-windows, rich with holiday
spoils, smile out upon the passing crowd, and the clang
of street-cars and roar of trafi&c mingle with the cries
of street- venders. The work finished, they drew their
chairs to the stove, and filled their pipes, still talking.

"Well, well," said Charlie, after the laugh occasioned
by one of Nels' droll stories had subsided. "It's nice
to think of those old times. I'd hate to have been one
of these kids that can't have any fun, Christmas or any
other time,"

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 307

"Ay gass dere ain't anybody much dot don'd have
someding dis tarns a year."

"Oh, yes, there are, Nels! You bet there are!"
Charlie nodded at his partner with serious conviction.
"Now, there's the Roneys," he waved his pipe over
his shoulder. "The old man told me to-night when I
was up after the cows that he's sold all the crops ex-
cept what they need for feedin' — wheat, and corn, and
everything, and some hogs besides — and ain't got
hardly enough now for feed and clothes for all that
family. The rent and the lumber he had to buy to
build the new barn after the old one burnt ate up
the money like fury. He kind of laughed, and said he
guessed the children wouldn't get much Christmas
this year. I didn't think about it's being so close
when he told me."

"No Christmas!" Nels' round eyes widened with
astonishment. "Ay tank dose been pooty bad!"
He studied the subject for a few moments, his stolid
face suddenly grown thoughtful. Charlie stared at
the stove. Far away by the river a lonely coyote
set up his quick, howling yelp.

"Dere's been seven kids oop dere," said Nels at
last, glancing up as if for corroboration.

"Yes, seven," agreed Charlie.

" Say, do ve need Seigert's team very pad? '*

"Well, now that depends," saidCharHe. "Why not?"

"Nothin', only Ay vas tankin' ve might tak' some
a das veat we vas goin' to sell and — and -"

3o8 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"Yep, what?"

"And dumb it on Roney's granary floor to-night
after dere been asleeb."

Charlie stared at his companion for a moment in
silence. Then he rose, and, approaching Nels, exam-
ined his partner's face with solemn scrutiny.

"By the great horn spoon," he announced, finally,
"you've got a head on you like a balloon, my boy!
Keep on gettin' ideas like that, and you'll land in
Congress or the poor-farm before many years!"

Then, abandoning his pretense of gravity, he slapped
the other on the back.

"Why didn't I think of that? It's the best yet.
Seigert's team? Oh, hang Seigert's team. We don't
need it. We'll have a little merry Christmas out
of this yet. Only they mustn't know where it came
from. I'll write a note and stick it under the door,

'You'll find some merry wheat ' No, that ain't

it. * You'll find some wheat in the granary to give
the kids a merry Christmas with,' signed, 'Santa
Claus.'"

He wrote out the message in the air with a pointing
forefinger. He had entered into the spirit of the thing
eagerly.

"It's half-past nine now," he went on, looking at
the clock. " It'll be eleven time we get the stuff loaded
and hauled up there. Let's go out and get at it.
Lucky the bobs are on the wagon; they don't make such
a racket as wheels."

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 309

He took the lantern from its nail behind the door
and lighted it, after which he put on his boots, cap,
and mittens, and flung his overcoat across his shoulders.
Nels, meanwhile, had put on his outer garments, also.

' ' Shut up the stove, Nels. ' ' Charlie blew out the light
and opened the door. "There, hang it ! " he exclaimed,
turning back. "I forgot the note. Ought to be in
ink, I suppose. Well, never mind now; we won't
put on any style about it."

He took down a pencil from the shelf, and, extracting
a bit of wrapping paper from a bundle behind the wood-
box, wrote the note by the light of the lantern.

"There, I guess that will do," he said, finally.
*'Come on!"

Outside, the night air was cold and bracing, and
in the black vault of the sky the winter constellations
flashed and throbbed. The shadows of the two men,
thrown by the lantern, bobbed huge and grotesque
across the snow and among the bare branches of the
cottonwoods, as they moved toward the barn.

"Ay tank ve put on dose extra side poards and make
her an even fifty pushel," said Nels, after they had
backed the wagon up to the granary door. " Ve might
as veil do it oop right, skence ve're at it."

Having carried out this suggestion, the two shovelled
steadily, with short intervals of rest, for three quarters
of an hour, the dark pile of grain in the wagon-box
rising gradually until it stood flush with the top.

Good it was to look upon, cold and soft and yielding

3IO CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

to the touch, this heaped-up wealth from the inex-
haustible treasure-house of the mighty West. Charlie
and Nels felt something of this as they viewed the
results of their labours for a moment before hitching
up the team.

"It's A number one hard," said Charlie, picking up
a handful and sifting it slowly through his fingers,
"and it'll fetch seventy-four cents. But you can't
raise any worse on this old farm of ours if you try, "
he added, a Httle proudly. "Nor anywhere else
in the Jim River Valley, for that matter."

As they approached the Roney place, looking dim
and indistinct in the darkness, their voices hushed
apprehensively, and the noise of the sled-runners
slipping through the snow seemed to them to increase
from a purr to a roar.

"Here, stob a minute!" whispered Nels, in agony
of discovery. "Ve're magin' an awful noise. Ay '11
go und take a beek."

He slipped away and cautiously approached the
house. "Et's all right," he whispered, hoarsely,
returning after a moment; "dere all asleeb. But go
easy ; Ay tank ve pest go easy . ' ' They seemed burdened
aU at once with the consciences of criminals, and went
forward with ahnost guilty timidity.

"Thunder, dere's a bump! Vy don'd you drive
garefuller, Sharlie?"

" Drive yourself, if you think you can do any better ! "

hs they came into the yard a dog suddenly ran

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 311

out from the barn, barking furiously. Charlie reined
up with an ejaculation of despair; "Look there, the
dog! We're done for now, sure! Stop him, Nels!
Throw somethin' at 'im!"

The noise seemed to their excited ears louder than
the crash of artillery. Nels threw a piece of snow
crust. The dog ran back a few steps, but his barking
did not diminish.

"Here, hold the Hues. I'll try to catch 'un."
Charlie jumped from the wagon and approached the
dog with coaxing words: "Come, doggie, good doggie,
nice boy, come!"

His manoeuvre, however, merely served to in-
crease the animal's frenzy. As Charlie approached the
dog retired slowly toward the house, his head thrown
back, and his rapid barking increased to a long-drawn
howl.

"Good boy, come! Bother the brute! He'll wake
up the whole household! Nice doggie! Phe-e "

The noise, however, had no apparent effect upon the
occupants of the house. AU remained as dark and
silent as ever.

"Sharlie, Sharlie, let him go!" cried Nels, in a voice
smothered with laughter. "Ay go in dose parn;
maype ha'll chase me."

His hope was weU founded. The dog, observing
this treacherous occupation by the enemy of his last
harbour of refuge, gave pursuit and disappeared
within the door, which CharHe, hard behind him, closed

312 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

with a bang. There was the sound of a hurried scuffle
within. The dog's barking gave place to terrified
whinings, which in turn were suddenly quenched to
a choking murmur.

" Gome in, Sharlie, kvick ! "

"You got him?" queried Charlie, opening the door
cautiously. " Did he bite you? "

"Na, yust ma mitten. Gat a sack or someding da
die him oop in."

A sack was procured from somewhere, into which
the dog, now silenced from sheer exhaustion and
fright, was unceremoniously thrust, after which the
sack was tied and flung into the wagon. This formid-
able obstacle overcome and the Roneys still slumbering
peacefully, the rest was easy. The granary door was
pried open and the wheat shovelled hurriedly in upon
the empty floor. CharHe then crept up to the house
and slipped his note under the door.

The sack was lifted from the now empty wagon and
opened before the barn, whereupon its occupant slipped
meekly out and retreated at once to a far corner,
seemingly too much incensed at his discourteous
treatment even to fling a volley of fareweU barks at
his departing captors.

"Veil," remarked Nels, with a sigh of relief as they
gained the road, "Ay tank dose Roneys pelieve en
Santa Claus now. Dose peen funny vay far Santa
Claus to coom."

Charlie's laugh was good to hear. "He didn't

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 313

exactly come down the chimney, that's a fact, but
it'll do at a pinch. We ought to have told them
to get a present for the dog — collar and chain. I
reckon he wouldn't hardly be thankful for it, though,
eh?"

"Ay gass not. Ha liges ta haf hes nights ta hemself . ' '

"WeU, we had our fun, anyway. Sort of puts me
in mind of old Wisconsin, somehow."

From far off over the valley, with its dismantled
cornfields and snow-covered haystacks, beyond the
ice-bound river, floated slow, and sonorous, the mellow
clanging of church bells. They were ushering in the
Christmas morn.

Overhead the starlit heavens glistened, brooding and
mysterious, looking down with luminous, loving eyes
upon these humble sons of men doing a good deed,
from the impulse of simple, generous hearts, as upon
that other Christmas morning, long ago, when the
Jewish shepherds, guarding their flocks by night, read
in their shining depths that in Bethlehem of Judea the
Christ-Child was born.

The rising sun was touching the higher hilltops
with a faint rush of crimson the next morning when the
back door of the Roney house opened with a creak,
and Mr. Roney, still heavy-eyed with sleep, stumbled
out upon the porch, stretched his arms above his head,
yawned, blinked at the dazzling snow, and then sham-
bled off toward the barn.

As he approached, the dog ran eagerly out, gambolled

314 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

meekly around his feet and caressed his boots. Thti
man patted him kindly.

"Hello, old boy! What were you yappin' around
so for last night, huh? Grain-thieves? You needn't
worry about them. There ain't nothin' left for them
to steal. No, sir ! If they got into that granary they'd
have to take a lantern along to find a pint of wheat.
I don't suppose," he added, reflectively, "that I could
scrape up enough to feed the chickens this mornin',
but I guess I might's well see."

He passed over to the little building. What he
saw when he looked within seemed for a moment to
produce no impression upon him whatever. He stared
at the hillock of grain in motionless silence.

Finally Mr. Roney gave utterance to a single word,
"Geewhilikins!" and started for the house on a run.
Into the kitchen, where his wife was just starting the
fire, the excited man burst like a whirlwind.

"Come out here, Mary!" he cried. "Come out
here, quick!"

The worthy woman, unaccustomed to such demon-
strations, looked at him in amazement.

"For goodness sake, what's come over you, Peter
Roney?" she exclaimed. "Are you daft? Don't
make such a noise! You'll wake the young ones, and
I don't want them waked till need be, with no Christ-
mas for 'em, poor little things!"

"Never mind the young 'uns," he replied. "Come
on!"

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 315

As they passed out he noticed the sUp of paper under
the door and picked it up, but without comment.
He charged down upon the granary, his wife, with a
shawl over her head, close behind.

She peered in, apprehensively at first, then with eyes
of widening wonder.

"Why, Peter!" she said, turning to him. "Why,
Peter ! What does — I thought ' '

"You thought!" he broke in. "Me, too. But
it ain't so. It means that we've got some of the best
neighbours that ever was, a thinkin' of our young 'uns
this way! Read that!" and he thrust the paper into
her hand.

"Why, Peter!" she ejaculated again, weakly. Then
suddenly she turned, and laying her head on his shoul-
der, began to sob softly.

"There, there," he said, patting her arm awkwardly.
"Don't you go and cry now. Let's just be thankful
to the good Lord for puttin' such fellers into the world
as them fellers down the road. And now you run in
and hurry up breakfast while I do up the chores.
Then we'll hitch up and get into town 'fore the stores
close. Tell the young 'uns Santy didn't get round
last night with their things, but we've got word to
meet him in town. Hey? Yes, I saw just the kind of
sled Pete wants when I was up yesterday, and that china
doll for Mollie. Yes, tell 'em anything you want.
Twon't be too big. Santy Glaus has come to Roney's
ranch this year, sure! "

XXXIII
LITTLE GRETCHEN AND THE WOODEN SHOE*

ELIZABETH HARRISON

THE following story is one of many which has
drifted down to us from the story-loving nurseries
and hearthstones of Germany. I cannot recall when
I first had it told to me as a child, varied, of course,
by different tellers, but always leaving that sweet, tender
impression of God's loving care for the least of his
children. I have since read different versions of it
in at least a half-dozen story books for children.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, far away across
the great ocean, in a country called Germany, there
could be seen a small log hut on the edge of a great
forest, whose fir-trees extended for miles and miles to
the north. This little house, made of heavy hewn logs,
had but one room in it. A rough pine door gave en-
trance to this room, and a small square window ad-
mitted the light. At the back of the house was built
an old-fashioned stone chimney, out of which in winter
usually curled a thin, blue smoke, showing that there
was not very much fire within.

Small as the house was, it was large enough for the

*Froin " Christmastide," published by the Chicago Kindergarten College,
copyright, 1902

316

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 317

two people who lived in it. I want to tell you a story
to-day about these two people. One was an old, gray-
haired woman, so old that the little children of the
village, nearly half a mile away, often wondered whether
she had come into the world with the huge mountains,
and the great fir-trees, which stood like giants back
of her small hut. Her face was wrinkled all over with
deep lines, which, if the children could only have read
aright, would have told them of many years of cheerful,
happy, self-sacrifice, of loving, anxious watching beside
sick-beds, of quiet endurance of pain, of many a day
of hunger and cold, and of a thousand deeds of un-
selfish love for other people; but, of course, they could
not read this strange handwriting. They only knew
that she was old and wrinkled, and that she stooped
as she walked. None of them seemed to fear her, for
her smile was always cheerful, and she had a kindly
word for each of them if they chanced to meet her on
her way to and from the village. With this old, old
woman lived a very little girl. So bright and happy
was she that the travellers who passed by the lone-
some little house on the edge of the forest often thought
of a sunbeam as they saw her. These two people were
known in the village as Granny Goodyear and Little
Gretchen.

The winter had come and the frost had snapped off
many of the smaller branches from the pine-trees
in the forest. Gretchen and her Granny were up by
daybreak each morning. After their simple breakfast

3i8 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

of oatmeal, Gretchen would run to the little closet and
fetch Granny's old woollen shawl, which seemed almost
as old as Granny herself. Gretchen always claimed
the right to put the shawl over her Granny's head,
even though she had to climb onto the wooden bench
to do it. After carefully pinning it under Granny's
chin, she gave her a good-bye kiss, and Granny started
out for her morning's work in the forest. This work
was nothing more nor less than the gathering up of the
twigs and branches which the autumn winds And winter
frosts had thrown upon the ground. These were care-
fully gathered into a large bundle which Granny tied
together with a strong linen band. She then managed
to lift the bundle to her shoulder and trudged off to the
village with it. Here she sold the fagots for kindling
wood to the people of the village. Sometimes she
would get only a few pence each day, and sometimes
a dozen or more, but on this money little Gretchen
and she managed to live; they had their home, and
the forest kindly furnished the wood for the fire
which kept them warm in cold weather.

In the summer time Granny had a little garden at
the back of the hut where she raised, with little Gret-
chen's help, a few potatoes and turnips and onions.
These she carefully stored away for winter use. To this
meagre supply, the pennies, gained by selling the twigs
from the forest, added the oatmeal for Gretchen and
a little black coffee for Granny. Meat was a thing
they never thought of having. It cost too much money.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 319

Still, Granny and Gretchen were very happy, because
they loved each other dearly. Sometimes Gretchen
would be left alone all day long in the hut, because
Granny would have some work to do in the village
after selling her bimdle of sticks and twigs. It was
during these long days that Httle Gretchen had taught
herself to sing the song which the wind sang to the
pine branches. In the summer time she learned
the chirp and twitter of the birds, until her voice
might almost be mistaken for a bird's voice; she learned
to dance as the swaying shadows did, and even to
talk to the stars which shone through the little square
window when Granny came home too late or too tired
to talk.

Sometimes, when the weather was fine, or her Grannyi
had an extra bimdle of newly knitted stockings to
take to the village, she would let little Gretchen go
along with her. It chanced that one of these trips
to the town came just the week before Christmas,
and Gretchen's eyes were delighted by the sight of she
lovely Christmas-trees which stood in the window of
the village store. It seemed to her that she would
never tire of looking at the knit dolls, the woolly lambs,
the little wooden shops with their queer, painted men
and women in them, and all the other fine things.
She had never owned a plaything in her whole life;
therefore, toys which you and I would not think much
of, seemed to her to be very beautiful.

That night, after their supper of baked potatoes

320 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

was over, and little Gretchen had cleared away the
dishes and swept up the hearth, because Granny dear
was so tired, she brought her own small wooden stool
and placed it very near Granny's feet and sat down
upon it, folding her hands on her lap. Granny knew
that this meant she wanted to talk about something,
so she smilingly laid away the large Bible which she
had been reading, and took up her knitting, which was
as much as to say: "Well, Gretchen, dear, Granny is
ready to hsten."

"Granny," said Gretchen slowly, "it's almost
Christmas time, isn't it?"

"Yes, dearie," said Granny, "only five more days
now," and then she sighed, but little Gretchen was so
happy that she did not notice Granny's sigh.

"What do you think. Granny, I'll get this Christ-
mas?" said she, looking up eagerly into Granny's face.

"Ah, child, child," said Granny, shaking her head,
"you'll have no Christmas this year. We are too
poor for that."

"Oh, but, Granny," interrupted little Gretchen,
"think of all the beautiful toys we saw in the village
to-day. Surely Santa Claus has sent enough for
every little child."

"Ah, dearie," said Granny, "those toys are for
people who can pay money for them, and we have no
money to spend for Christmas toys."

"Well, Granny," said Gretchen, "perhaps some of
the little children who live in the great house on the

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 321

hill at the other end of the village will be willing to
share some of their toys with me. They wiU be so
glad to give some to a little girl who has none."

"Dear child, dear child," said Granny, leaning
forward and stroking the soft, shiny hair of the little
girl, "yom- heart is full of love. You would be glad to
bring a Christmas to every child; but their heads are
so full of what they are going to get that they forget
all about anybody else but themselves." Then she
sighed and shook her head.

"Well, Granny," said Gretchen, her bright, happy
tone of voice growing a little less joyous, "perhaps the
dear Santa Claus will show some of the village children
how to make presents that do not cost money, and some
of them may surprise me Christmas morning with a
present. And, Granny, dear," added she, springing
up from her low stool, "can't I gather some of the pine
branches and take them to the old sick man who lives
in the house by the mill, so that he can have the sweet
smell of our pine forest in his room all Christmas day? "

"Yes, dearie," said Granny, "you may do what you
can to make the Christmas bright and happy, but you
must not expect any present yourself."

"Oh, but, Granny," said little Gretchen, her face
brightening, "you forget all about the shining Christmas
angels, who came down to earth and sang their wonder-
ful song the night the beautiful Christ-Child was bom !
They are so loving and good that they will not forget
any little child. I shall ask my dear stars to-night

322 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

to tell them of us. You know," she added, with a
look of relief, "the stars are so very high that they
must know the angels quite well, as they come and
go with their messages from the loving God."

Granny sighed, as she half whispered, "Poor child,
poor child!" but Gretchen threw her arm around Gran-
ny's neck and gave her a hearty kiss, saying as she did
so: "Oh, Granny, Granny, you don't talk to the stars
often enough, else you wouldn't be sad at Christmas
time." Then she danced all around the room, whirl-
ing her little skirts about her to show Granny how the
wind had made the snow dance that day. She looked
so droll and funny that Granny forgot her cares and
worries and laughed with little Gretchen over her
new snow-dance. The days passed on, and the morn-
ing before Christmas Eve came. Gretchen having
tidied up the little room — for Granny had taught
her to be a careful httle housewife — was off to the
forest, singing a birdlike song, almost as happy and
free as the birds themselves. She was very busy that
day, preparing a surprise for Granny. First, however,
she gathered the most beautiful of the fir branches
within her reach to take the next morning to the old
sick man who lived by the mill.

The day was all too short for the happy little girl.
When Granny came trudging wearily home that night,
she found the frame of the doorway covered with green
pine branches.

"It's to welcome you, Granny! It's to welcome

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 323

you!" cried Gretchen; "our old dear home wanted to
give you a Christmas welcome. Don't you see,
the branches of evergreen make it look as if it were
smiling all over, and it is trying to say, 'A happy
Christmas' to you, Granny!"

Granny laughed and kissed the little girl, as they
opened the door and went in together. Here was a new
surprise for Granny. The four posts of the wooden
bed, which stood in one corner of the room, had been
trimmed by the busy little fingers, with smaller and
more flexible branches of the pine-trees. A small
bouquet of red mountain-ash berries stood at each side
of the fireplace, and these, together with the trimmed
posts of the bed, gave the plain old room quite
a festival look. Gretchen laughed and clapped her
hands and danced about until the house seemed full
of music to poor, tired Granny, whose heart had been
sad as she turned toward their home that night,
thinking of the disappointment which must come to
loving little Gretchen the next morning.

After supper was over little Gretchen drew her stool
up to Granny's side, and laying her soft, little hands
on Granny's knee, asked to be told once again the
story of the coming of the Christ-Child; how the night
that he was bom the beautiful angels had sung their
wonderful song, and how the whole sky had become
bright with a strange and glorious light, never seen
by the people of earth before. Gretchen had heard
the story many, many times before, but she never

324 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

grew tired of it, and now that Christmas Eve had come
again, the happy little child wanted to hear it once
more.

When Granny had finished telling it the two sat
quiet and silent for a little while thinking it over;
then Granny rose and said that it was time for them
to go to bed. She slowly took off her heavy wooden
shoes, such as are worn in that country, and placed
them beside the hearth. Gretchen looked thoughtfully
at them for a minute or two, and then she said, ''' Granny,
don't you think that somebody in all this wide world
will think of us to-night? "

"Nay, Gretchen," said Granny, "I don't think any
one will."

"Well, then. Granny," said Gretchen, "the Christmas
angels will, I know; so I am going to take one of your
wooden shoes, and put it on the windowsill outside,
so that they may see it as they pass by. I am sure
the stars will tell the Christmas angels where the shoe
is."

"Ah, you fooHsh, fooHsh child," said Granny,
"you are only getting ready for a disappointment
To-morrow morning there will be nothing whatever
in the shoe. I can tell you that now."

But little Gretchen would not listen. She only shook
her head and cried out: "Ah, Granny, you don't
talk enough to the stars." With this she seized the
shoe, and, opening the door, hurried out to place it
on the windowsill. It was very dark without, and

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 325

something soft and cold seemed to gently kiss her hair
and face. Gretchen knew by this that it was snowing,
and she looked up to the sky, anxious to see if the stars
were in sight, but a strong wind was tumbling the
dark, heavy snow-clouds about and had shut away
all else.

"Never mind," said Gretchen softly to herself,
"the stars are up there, even if I can't see them, and
the Christmas angels do not mind snowstorms."

Just then a rough wind went sweeping by the little
girl, whispering something to her which she could not
understand, and then it made a sudden rush up to the
snow-clouds and parted them, so that the deep,
mysterious sky appeared beyond, and shining down
out of the midst of it was Gretchen's favourite star.

"Ah, little star, little star!" said the child, laughing
aloud, "I knew you were there, though I couldn't
see you. Will you whisper to the Christmas angels
as they come by that Httle Gretchen wants so very
much to have a Christmas gift to-morrow morning,
if they have one to spare, and that she has put one
of Granny's shoes upon the windowsill ready for it? "

A moment more and the little girl, standing on
tiptoe, had reached the windowsill and placed the
shoe upon it, and was back again in the house beside
Granny and the warm fire.

The two went quietly to bed, and that night as little
Gretchen knelt to pray to the Heavenly Father, she
thanked him for having sent the Christ-Child into the

326 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

world to teach all mankind how to be loving and
unselfish, and in a few moments she was quietly sleep-
ing, dreaming of the Christmas angels.

The next morning, very early, even before the sun
was up, Uttle Gretchen was awakened by the sound of
sweet music coming from the village. She listened
for a moment and then she knew that the choir-boys
were singing the Christmas carols in the open air of
the village street. She sprang up out of bed and began
to dress herself as quickly as possible, singing as she
dressed. While Granny was slowly putting on her
clothes, little Gretchen, having finished dressing
herself, unfastened the door and hurried out to see
what the Christmas angels had left in the old wooden
shoe.

The white snow covered everything — trees, stumps,
roads, and pastures — until the whole world looked
like fairyland. Gretchen cHmbed up on a large stone
which was beneath the window and carefully Hfted
down the wooden shoe. The snow tumbled off of it
in a shower over the little girl's hands, but she did not
heed that; she ran hurriedly back into the house,
putting her hand into the toe of the shoe as she ran.

"Oh, Granny! Oh, Granny!" she exclaimed, "you
didn't believe the Christmas angels would think about
us, but see, they have, they have! Here is a dear
little bird nestled down in the toe of your shoe!
Oh, isn't he beautiful?"

Grannv came forward and looked at what the child

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 327

was holding lovingly in her hand. There she saw a
tiny chick-a-dee, whose wing was evidently broken by
the rough and boisterous winds of the night before,
and who had taken shelter in the safe, dry toe of the
old wooden shoe. She gently took the little bird out
of Gretchen's hands, and skilfully bound his broken
wing to his side, so that he need not hurt himself by
trying to fly with it. Then she showed Gretchen how
to make a nice warm nest for the little stranger,
close beside the fire, and when their breakfast wai
ready she let Gretchen feed the little bird with a few
moist crumbs.

Later in the day Gretchen carried the fresh, green
boughs to the old sick man by the miU, and on her
way home stopped to see and enjoy the Christmas
toys of some other children whom she knew, never
once wishing that they were hers. When she reached
home she found that the little bird had gone to sleep.
Soon, however, he opened his eyes and stretched his
head up, saying just as plain as a bird could say,

"Now, my new friends, I want you to give me some-
thing more to eat." Gretchen gladly fed him again, and
then, holding him in her lap, she softly and gently
stroked his gray feathers until the little creature
seemed to lose all fear of her. That evening Granny
taught her a Christmas hymn and told her another
beautiful Christmas story. Then Gretchen made up a
funny little story to tell to the birdie. He winked his
eyes and turned his head from side to side in such a

328 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

droll fashion that Gretchen laughed until the tears
came.

As Granny and she got ready for bed that night,
Gretchen put her arms softly around Granny's neck,
and whispered: "What a beautiful Christmas we
have had to-day. Granny! Is there anything in the
world more lovely than Christmas? "

"Nay, child, nay," said Granny, "not to such loving
hearts as yours."

XXXIV
CHRISTMAS ON BIG RATTLE*

THEODORE GOODRIDGE ROBERTS

ARCHER sat by the rude hearth of his Big Rattle
camp, brooding in a sort of tired contentment
over the spitting fagots of var and glowing coals of
birch.

It was Christmas Eve. He had been out on his
snowshoes all that day, and all the day before,
springing his traps along the streams and putting
his deadfalls out of commission — rather queer work
for a trapper to be about.

But Archer, despite all his gloomy manner, was
really a sentimentalist, who practised what he felt.

"Christmas is a season of peace on earth," he had
told himself, while demolishing the logs of a sinister
deadfall with his axe; and now the remembrance of
his quixotic deed added a brightness to the fire and
to the rough, undecorated walls of the camp.

Outside, the wind ran high in the forest, breaking and
sweeping tidelike over the reefs of treetops.

The air was bitterly cold. Another voice, almost
as fitful as the sough of the wind, sounded across the

•This story was first printed in the Youth's Companion, Dec. 14, 1905.

329

330 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

night. It was the waters of Stone Arrow Falls,
above Big Rattle.

The frosts had drawn their bonds of ice and blankets
of silencing snow over all the rest of the stream, but
the white and black face of the falls still flashed from a
window in the great house of crystal, and threw out
a voice of desolation.

Sacobie Bear, a full-blooded Micmac, uttered a
grunt of relief when his ears caught the bellow of
Stone Arrow Falls. He stood still, and turned his
head from side to side, questioningly.

"Good!" he said. "Big Rattle off there, Archer's
camp over there. I go there. Good 'nough!"

He hitched his old smooth-bore rifle higher under
his arm and continued his journey. Sacobie had
tramped many miles — aU the way from ice-imprisoned
Fox Harbor. His papoose was sick. His squaw was
hungry. Sacobie's belt was drawn tight.

During all that weary journey his old rifle had not
banged once, although few eyes save those of timber-
wolf and lynx were sharper in the hunt than Sacobie's.
The Indian was reeUng with hunger and weakness,
but he held bravely on.

A white man, no matter how courageous and sinewy,
would have been prone in the snow by that time.

But Sacobie, with his head down and his round
snowshoes padding! padding! like the feet of a frightened
duck, raced with death toward the haven of Archer's
cabin.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 331

Archer was dreaming of a Christmas-time in a great
faraway city when he was startled by a rattle of snow-
shoes at his threshold and a soft beating on his door,
like weak blows from mittened hands. He sprang
across the cabin and pulled open the door.

A short, stooping figure shuffled in and reeled
against him. A rifle in a woollen case clattered at
his feet.

" Mer ' Christmas ! How-do? " said a weary voice.

' ' Merry Christmas, brother ! " replied Archer. Then,
"Bless me, but it's Sacobie Bear! Why, what's the
matter, Sacobie? "

"Heap tired! Heap hungry!" replied the Micmac,
sinking to the floor.

Archer lifted the Indian and carried him over to
the bunk at the farther end of the room. He fiUed
his iron-pot spoon with brandy, and inserted the
point of it between Sacobie's unresisting jaws. Then
he loosened the Micmac's coat and shirt and belt.
He removed his moccasins and stockings and rubbed
the straight thin feet with brandy.

After a while Sacobie Bear opened riis eyes and
gazed up at Archer.

"Good!" he said. "John Archer, he heap fine
man, anyhow. Mighty good to poor Injun Sacobie,
too. Plenty tobac, I s'pose. Plenty rum, too."

"No more rum, my son," replied Archer, tossing
what was left in the mug against the log wall, and
corking the bottle. "And no smoke until you have

332 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

had a feed. What do you say to bacon and tea?
Or would tinned beef suit you better?"

" Bacum," repHed Sacobie.

He hoisted himself to his elbow, and wistfully
sniffed the fumes of brandy that came from the direction
of his bare feet. "Heap waste of good rum, me t'ink,"
he said.

"You ungratefu' little beggar!" laughed Archer,
as he puUed a frying pan from under the bunk.

By the time the bacon was fried and the tea steeped,
Sacobie was sufficiently revived to leave the bunk and
take a seat by the fire.

He ate as aU hungry Indians do; and Archer looked
on in wonder and whimsical regret, remembering the
miles and miles he had tramped with that bacon
on his back.

"Sacobie, you will kill yourself!" he protested.

"Sacobie no kill himself now," rephed the Micmac,
as he bolted a brown slice and a mouthful of hard
bread. "Sacobie more like to kiU himself when he
empty. Want to Uve when he chock-full. Good fun.
T'ank you for more tea."

Archer filled the extended mug and poured in the
molasses — "long sweet'nin'" they call it in that
region.

" What brings you so far from Fox Harbor this time
of year?" inquired Archer.

"Squaw sick. Papoose sick. Bote empty. Wan{
good bacum to eat."

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 333

Archer smiled at the fire. "Any luck trapping?"
he asked.

His guest shook his head and hid his face behind
the upturned mug.

"Not much," he replied, presently.

He drew his sleeve across his mouth, and then pro-
duced a clay pipe from a pocket in his shirt.

"Tobac?" he inquired.

Archer passed him a dark and heavy plug of tobacco.

"Knife?" queried Sacobie.

"Try your own knife on it," answered Archer,
grinning.

With a sigh Sacobie produced his sheath-knife.

"You t'ink Sacobie heap big t'ief," he said, ac-
cusingly.

"Knives are easily lost — in people's pockets,"
replied Archer.

The two men talked for hours. Sacobie Bear was
a great gossip for one of his race. In fact, he had a
Micmac nickname which, translated, meant "the
man who deafens his friends with much talk." Archer,
however, was pleased with his ready chatter and un-
forced humour.

But at last they both began to nod. The white
man made up a bed on the floor for Sacobie with a
couple of caribou skins and a heavy blanket. Then
he gathered together a few plugs of tobacco, some tea,
flour, and dried fish.

Sacobie watched him with freshly aroused interest.

334 CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES

"More tobac, please," he said. "Squaw, he smoke,
too."

Archer added a couple of sticks of the black leaf
to the pile.

"Bacum, too," said the Micmac. "Bacum better
nor fish, anyhow."

Archer shook his head.

"You'll have to do with the fish," he replied; "but
I'll give you a tin of condensed milk for the papoose."

^Ah, ah! Him good stuff!" exclaimed Sacobie.

Archer considered the provisions for a second or two.

Then, going over to a dunnage bag near his bunk,
he pulled its contents about until he found a bright
red silk handkerchief and a red flannel shirt. Their
colour was too gaudy for his taste. "These things
are for your squaw," he said.

Sacobie was delighted. Archer tied the articles
into a neat pack and stood it in the comer, beside his
guest's rifle.

"Now you had better turn in," he said, and blew
out the light.

In ten minutes both men slept the sleep of the weary.
The fire, a great mass of red coals, faded and flushed
like some fabulous jewel. The wind washed over
the cabin and fingered the eaves, and brushed furtive
hands against the door.

It was dawn when Archer awoke. He sat up in his
bunk and looked about the quiet, gray-lighted room.
Sacobie Bear was nowhere to be seen.

CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS STORIES 335

He glanced at the corner by the door. Rifle and
pack were both gone. He looked up at the rafter
where his slab of bacon was always hung. It, too,
was gone.

He jumped out of his bunk and ran to the door.
Opening it, he looked out. Not a breath of air stirred.
In the east, saffron and scarlet, broke the Christmas
morning, and blue on the white surface of the world
lay the imprints of Sacobie's round snowshoes.

For a long time the trapper stood in the doorway in
silence, looking out at the stillness and beauty.

"Poor Sacobie!" he said, after a while. "Well, he's
welcome to the bacon, even if it is all I had."

He turned to light the fire and prepare breakfast.
Something at the foot of his bunk caught his eye.

He went over and took it up. It was a cured skin
■ — a beautiful specimen of fox. He turned it over,
and on the white hide an uncultured hand had written,
with a charred stick, "Archer."

"Well, bless that old red-skin !" exclaimed the trap-
per, huskily. "Bless his puckered eyes! Who'd have
thought that I should get a Christmas present? "

iOOM

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